EraserMic - Violent Delights
by AkatsukiMemberWoolfy
Summary: A promise, a friendship, and a shared dream of heroism, all ended by that one fateful day. Eight years later, and Shouta Aizawa is planning to debut as a villain, but Hizashi Yamada refuses to share his villainous spotlight with anyone. What will happen when the star-crossed duo meet again? These violent delights have violent ends, but not in the way either villain expects.
1. Love Moderately

VillainEraser x VillainMic? Let's go!  
-x- = scene change/time skip (sometimes also a perspective change)  
-o- = perspective change (but not a scene change)  
[Words] = dialogue spoken in English (since the characters are technically speaking Japanese)

Chapter One

Love Moderately

**_"These violent delights have violent ends,_**

**_And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,_**

**_Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey_**

**_Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,_**

**_And in the taste confounds the appetite._**

**_Therefore love moderately, long love doth so;_**

**_Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow."_**

-_Romeo and Juliet (Friar Lawrence - Act 2, Scene 6)_

He didn't enjoy thinking about **that day**. In fact, it made him _mad_, and nowadays when he got _mad_, people tended to get_ hurt_. Aizawa had once dreamt of becoming a hero, of rescuing citizens and saving the world one botched robbery at a time, but his flimsy dream had been dashed by fearful spectators and howls of execration.

That first Sports Festival had spelled his doom.

His opponent had survived; Shouta's dream had not.

He'd been stuck in General studies, despite the clear divide between him and his fellow classmates, and he'd been banned from all future Sport Festivals, without the chance of transferal to the Hero course. Every year he'd grown bitterer and bitterer, even after graduation, and now at twenty-two he'd had his twisted revelation.

If he had no chance of becoming a hero, he was going to become a **villain **and destroy the system that had failed him, one dead hero at a time.

Aizawa would debut that night, and he was going to start his career with a _bang._

So, what building had been his first target? Hero HQ would've been ideal, but he wasn't an idiot. No, he couldn't start off _that _big, unfortunately. For now he'd be an underground villain, lurking in the shadows and hunting down individual heroes on patrol.

He'd been following this one for a few nights now. He'd recognised her from his days at UA, despite her costume (or because of it), and although he hadn't talked to her in years, he'd once considered her a friend. Now she was his first target.

Nemuri Kayama, the R-Rated Hero: Midnight.

Her outfit was minimal due to her Somnambulist Quirk. She could put people to sleep with the pheromones on her skin, not that it really _mattered _against his Erasure Quirk.

Most heroes relied on their powers to win, meaning he was going to be their worst enemy.

Kayama patrolled the streets below while he carefully followed her across the rooftops above. His outfit was almost entirely black: black jumpsuit, black utility belt, and a black mask with circular red lenses for eyes. He didn't have a villain name and doubted he'd ever give himself one: he didn't see the importance.

Something vibrated once in his belt, his phone, but he ignored it as his boots landed soundlessly on the next building over. Midnight was nearing the place he'd designated for his ambush, but he was surprised by an unexpected deviation. She stopped and pulled a phone from an unseen pocket on her outfit - how did that thing even _have_ pockets?

Her supple skin shone against the moonlight, her costume completely obscene with its minimalist covering. Usually she turned right up ahead, but something about the phone made her turn left and disappear into a nearby alleyway instead. Aizawa sneered beneath his mask, concerned. Had she somehow known about his presence? It didn't matter; he wasn't going to forego his debut on a mere possibility.

Shouta leapt over another gap between the buildings and tried to track her, but when he finally had a vantage point of the alleyway, she was gone.

"Dammit," he growled beneath his breath, but dashed across the length of the alleyway to see if she were waiting on the other side. A shape leapt up a few buildings ahead, and he instantly dropped low to avoid being spotted.

Her skin glistened against the moonlight: it was her. Midnight's back was facing him, and she was dashing northward along the rooftops. Was she fleeing, or had something else disrupted her patrol route?

Wait…

He glanced down at the streets. There were a few citizens milling about, despite the time, and many had stopped to show each other their phones. What the…?

Aizawa recalled the earlier vibration in his belt and pulled out his own device to investigate. The screen illuminated his mask, the brightness dyed red through his crimson lenses. He had a single message, in English, from an unknown contact. The display name came up as a microphone emoji. Judging by the reaction of the citizens on the street, _everyone _had received it.

**_[You ready to party?]_**

Just some stupid advertisement, probably for a new bar - definitely an invasion of privacy though. Attached to the message was a map, but he didn't bother to look as he shoved it back into his belt. This would _not _ruin his debut.

He dashed across the rooftops, headed in the same direction as Midnight, and soon she was back in view, her black hair reflecting the bright lights of the signs below. This was a busy part of the city, not a place he'd planned to debut, but while he was a logical man, his stubbornness typically won out.

Where was she going? She must've received a message about a villain, or about an incident that needed back up. Perhaps a veteran would be jaded enough to finish patrol early to check out a new bar, but assuming she'd spent the last few years as a sidekick, she wouldn't risk a demotion so early in her hero career.

She stopped. Shouta stalked closer. He reached for his knife, his movements completely silent. Just a few…more…steps…

Aizawa was blinded by a brilliant light. On the building ahead of them, a giant cube appeared in a swirl of black mist.

"[**_ALL ABOARD~!]" _**

The words rocked through him, nearly knocking him off his feet. Fireworks exploded above and the metal cube opened wall-by-wall. _Crash. Crash. Crash_. The final side gave way. _Crash_. Through the blaring spotlights, Aizawa could just make out a dark silhouette clutching a guitar.

The sound of the screeching instrument filled the air, the noise backed up by four enormous speakers that cornered the platform.

"[_Two heroes, huh_?]" said a voice in English over the speakers. "[_Welcome to the show~!] I expected a bigger turn out than just the two of you, but beggars can't be choosers! Welcome Midnight and-… Whoever __**you**__ are."_

The screeching guitar faded into an impressive riff, while the speakers rocked sickening levels of bass into the sound.

Aizawa leapt for the woman, blade held high, but his opportunity was lost. She grabbed him by the wrist and twisted.

His knife fell and a veil of dust lifted from her skin: her Quirk. His hair floated about his face as he activated Erasure and the dust vanished, leaving her in shock. The blade clattered at their feet, but the noise was consumed by the reverberation of that crazy guitar.

She wasn't as good as him in hand to hand combat, especially without her Quirk, and he was about to reclaim his knife when the guitarist began to _sing._

**_"[Crazy, but that's how it goes, millions of people, living as foes~!]"_**

The entire building vibrated with the voice, and both Aizawa and Midnight were forced to part and cover their ears. She took the opportunity to kick his knife away, skidding it across the roof, with just enough force to leave it teetering on the edge. Aizawa had to decide whether it was worth the hassle of retrieval. The voice shook his senses.

**_"[Maybe, it's not too late, to learn how to love, and forget how to hate!]"_**

What the _fuck _was this guy's deal? Was he a hero?

**_"[Mental wounds not healing, life's a bitter shame! I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!]"_**

More fireworks flared overhead, in time with the music, and he could hear windows smashing from prolonged exposure. It was so _loud _and his ears were _ringing _but the sound would not _stop._

**_"[I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!]"_**

Aizawa made a split-second decision to go for the knife after all, but that required taking his eyes off the R-Rated hero. He flew for the blade, holding his breath to avoid her Quirk, but he lost his footing when something wrapped around his ankle and pulled. His mask slammed into the ground. Overhead he heard the thrum of a helicopter, just barely over the music, and another spotlight was on him. What the _fuck _was even _happening?_

**_"[I've listened to preachers; I've listened to fools! I've watched all the dropouts, who make their own rules!]"_**

His knife was in reach. He stretched his arm out and grabbed it, just as the force around his leg wrenched him backwards. Aizawa flipped onto his back and used his hands to launch his body at her, legs outstretched.

**_"[One person conditioned to rule and control, the media sells it and you live the role!]"_**

His boot collided with her shoulder, sending her reeling back, but the thing on his ankle remained: her whip. He rolled as he hit the ground, knife held at a safe distance, and looked up to confirm the presence of the chopper. In the flare of the spotlights, he could clearly make out the sheen of television cameras, aimed at him and the Vocal Quirk user.

His temper flared, along with his Erasure. Well, now he was _pissed._

**_"[Mental wounds still screaming, driving me insane! I'm going off the rails on a crazy train! I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!]"_**

Midnight wrenched at his leg again, but he stood firm. Blood was running from his ears, and he decided right then and there that he no longer gave a _fuck _about _her._

This man, with his _stupid _guitar and his _stupid _flare and his _stupid fucking song, _was going to be his first victim. He'd wanted to be an underground villain, but he could work with an audience if he didn't have a choice.

He lurched at the whip and sliced through it with his knife, catching the R-Rated hero by surprise.

**_"[I know that things are going wrong for me, you gotta listen to my wor-]"_**

The villain turned on that silhouette, the red lenses of his mask glowing with rage. "Shut the** fuck** up!"

The figure jerked in the spotlight as his words were stymied, but the playing of his instrument only slowed for a moment, before he lost himself in an impressive guitar solo. Shouta's ears were ringing, dripping with thick warmth.

His mind flashed back to his first (and only) Sports Festival, to a kid who'd also had a Vocal Quirk, who'd been carted away on a stretcher.

Could this man still breathe? Why wasn't he doing anything to stop Aizawa?

He leapt the building, forgetting all about the R-Rated Hero in his anger: he'd destroy _this _hero instead!

-x-

He couldn't breathe in. He couldn't breathe out. He couldn't sing. He couldn't speak.

But Present Mic wasn't going to let that keep him from his big moment. He was thankful it'd happened so close to his solo, since he didn't have to voice this part anyway.

_Don't panic, _he told himself. _You can hold your breath for a long time, just don't panic._

He had plenty of oxygen still in his lungs. Mic hadn't expected to run into an Erasure Quirk so soon, but he was always prepared for the worst. On his belt were three smokebombs that would disrupt his line of sight if necessary. If he just pretended everything was fine, the hero with Erasure would never know he _wasn't _fine.

Well, _was _he a hero? He'd been attacking Midnight, right? Who was he then? Was he also a-

He looked up and saw a silhouette cutting through his spotlights, directly above him.

Shit.

Hizashi slammed his foot on the peddle and closed his eyes, just as the lights swapped to strobe mode. He moved his body to the side, attention still focused on his strenuous guitar playing. Despite his sizeable headphones, he heard the man land where he'd just been, but although he tried to inhale, he couldn't. The man was still looking at him.

Shit.

He stepped back again, just in time to avoid the knife, and he opened his eyes. It was difficult to make out details about the man in the flashing lights, but the round red eyes of the mask definitely left an impression.

"I'm gonna shut you up for good," growled the attacker as he swung again with the knife.

He had to stay calm. If he panicked, his oxygen would…

His solo ended and he pressed a button on the guitar. The speakers flared blue and the pre-recorded riff played in place of his strings. Such an annoyance, but he was _not _going to leave his song unfinished.

He dodged another swing of metal, but couldn't help but smile. Judging by the expert way this guy held the knife, he was a lot better than_ this_. The sensory overload was affecting him, making his movements jerky, and there was an odd thrill that came with that revelation.

The chopper roared above, the spotlight glued to their struggle. Mic was always better with an audience.

At the limit of his lungs, he pulled a smokebomb from his belt and activated the metal 'beak' on his own mask, closing it with a snap.

Smoke filled the air. His mask's filters activated. Hizashi leapt back and inhaled as deeply as he could, bringing the oxygen straight to his diaphragm as he'd trained himself to do. He swung the guitar onto his back and activated the directional speakers across his belt.

The microphone in his mask kept the distortion to a minimal as he sung the next line with complete abandon.

**_"[HEIRS OF A COLD WAR, THAT'S WHAT WE'VE BECOME!]" _**The cloud from the smokebomb sailed back with the force of his voice, but so did the man with the Erasure Quirk. Clearly it was too much for him to handle at point blank, for he leapt further back as cracks ran through his red lenses. His knife flew off the edge of the building, but Present Mic didn't relent. **_"[INHERITING TROUBLES, I'M MENTALLY NUMB!]" _**He slammed his foot on another pedal, and the wall behind the Erasure man flew back up, slamming into him from behind. This was too easy.**_ "[CRAZY! I JUST CANNOT BEAR; I'M LIVING WITH SOMETHING THAT JUST ISN'T FAIR!]"_**

He heard the wail of sirens below. Present Mic kicked another pedal on his platform, and an explosion rocked the building beneath them. The bottom floor was completely gutted with flames. Screams echoed from the streets below, but the pyrotechnics were really just for show.

He looked to the left – Midnight was staring between them, completely dumbfounded. So, she didn't know anything about this guy either. What _was _this guy? A hero? A villain? A vigilante?

His head turned back to face the masked attacker, but just as he did, something connected with his body. Mic flew sideways, skidding across the platform's surface, the air knocked from his lungs. He went to inhale instinctively, but panicked when he couldn't.

He reached for another smokebomb, but someone grabbed his jacket and hauled him up before he could get it. "You're dead," hissed the voice, muffled beneath the mask.

The worst part, however, was Present Mic's song: he was _missing the final chorus._

Before Hizashi could successfully reach the smokebomb, a tree branch swung at their heads. Both men saw it before it connected, and the Erasure user pulled them out the way, his gaze shifting towards the new hero: Kamui Woods.

Dammit, Mic didn't want to deal with _him. _That guy had no taste! His debut was _ruined_! His song was ruined too! Then again, it'd still been rather fun, and the cameras…

He inhaled when the Erasure user looked away. "It's time to blow this _[popsicle stand]_," Present Mic said, surprising the man who still clung tightly to his jacket. Guess he'd bring him along too, if only for the media sensation.

Hizashi grabbed his attacker by the arm and pushed a button on his jacket. Those lenses turned back on him and through the cracks he could just make out a pair of glowing red eyes.

A black vortex emerged around them. The Erasure user tried to shove him away, tried to escape the fate that awaited just beyond the gloom, but it was too late for that. The villainous mist swaddled their bodies and cloaked the air.

When it cleared, they were gone. The speakers grew quiet. The night air stilled. Everything grew deathly silent with their successful escape.

* * *

Song: Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne. Reviews are appreciated!


	2. Hanging in the Stars

Chapter Two

**Hanging in the Stars**

**"I fear too early, for my mind misgives**

**Some consequence yet hanging in the stars**

**Shall bitterly begin his fearful date**

**With this night's revels, and expire the terms**

**Of a despised life clos'd in my breast,**

**By some vile forfeit of untimely death."**

\- (Romeo - Act 1, Scene 5)

Aizawa had no clue what was happening. He _had_ been grappling with the idiot, deciding whether he wanted to snap his neck or bash his head in, when a dark cloud had consumed them. He tried to fight against it, but his head was still a mess from the point-blank song attack and the migraine-inducing strobe lights.

One moment they were on the rooftop, fighting in the cold air, then they were in complete darkness, then they were…

Aizawa stumbled back, his grip on the guitarist relinquished as warm air replaced the bitter cold. He hit something at waist height and felt his knees buckle as he fell back and … slumped onto a stool.

He was in a _bar_?

Aizawa glanced around like a wild animal, taking in the sight of the other stools, the neon signs, the rows of alcohol, and-

His company.

The man behind the counter was an amalgam of swirling purple mist and a carefully fixed suit, while in his hand was an archaic flip-phone. "I charge extra for guests," said the bartender, his voice even and his accent formal.

"Yeah, yeah, just put it on my tab, sweetie." That voice. It was the _strangest _voice Aizawa had ever heard. The figure sat in the stool beside him and tapped twice on the bar, "Something strong, two of 'em." Vocal Quirk. When the blond talked, his voice shifted unnaturally, as if he were jumping back and forth between multiple voices, yet sometimes the shift came midway through a word.

The bartender put the phone away as he moved to fulfil the request, and Aizawa finally had a chance to take in the other man.

His jacket was made of fine black leather that evenly reflected the warm lights above. His belt consisted of an array of speakers, with the largest being the two on his hips, while the colourful guitar was slung on his back. He wore spiked shoulder pads, outlined by strings of insufferable neon lights in red, blue and green. The man's hair was blond, swept up with what could've easily been a store's supply of hair gel, yet was weighed down by large industrial headphones with long radio antennas attached. His face was covered by a mask, the eyes orange and triangular, while the mouth was hidden by a long metal beak, currently snapped shut.

Reason returned to him: this was the hero he was going to kill.

Aizawa's fist was flying before he knew it, but it never made contact. The black mist from before appeared around his arm, and there was an otherworldly sensation that came with the sight of his fist appearing on the opposite side of the room.

Teleportation Quirk, he told himself, thankful his Erasure wasn't active, or else he might've lost the hand.

"It's fine, hun," the blond told the bartender, unaffected, "he's new."

Aizawa drew his hand from the void and held it close, even as the bartender carefully set down two shots of absinthe, a bottle of water, and a plate with two sugar cubes atop slotted spoons.

"No fighting," explained the mist-man, "or you'll be banned permanently." Was he supposed to care? Where were they? "This place is villains only."

_Villains only._ Wait, that meant this annoying guy was a-

The blond placed the spoon atop his glass of absinthe, sugar cube in place as he poured the bottled water over it. "Thought maybe he was a hero, but he was trying to knife Midnight pretty convincingly. Doubt he's a vigilante. Nice mask, by the way, 'cept the mouth guard looks like a ball gag_. [Totally dope though]."_

His voice kept switching between pitches and tones and genders, not to mention the additional jump between Japanese and English. God, he'd never heard anything more _annoying _in his life_._

"Pick a voice," Aizawa finally growled out, surprising the duo, "and tell me what the _fuck _is going on."

The blond hummed and pressed a button on his mask. The lower beak unhinged, revealing a grin full of perfect teeth. "Quite a sailor's tongue you got there. Careful, someone might bite it off~" He'd settled on a voice, but it still wasn't natural – he sounded like an old timey radio, complete with soft crackling. "The name's Present Mic, and you interrupted my song _and _my debut. _[Congratulations_]."

Aizawa sneered beneath his mask. "You interrupted _my _debut."

The face turned to him, and he could just make out the hint of eyes beneath the orange tint. There was a careful contemplation there and, for an unearthly moment, he was overwhelmed by a sense of intelligence. This man was studying him like a hawk. The grin reappeared, outlined by the upper beak of his mask. "You're pretty shameless, trying to ride my coattails."

Aizawa started. "_What_?"

"Can't plan your own big party, so you gotta steal _my _spotlight!" Present Mic cackled wickedly, clearly more amused than offended, and he sipped the sweetened absinthe. If the man thought Shouta would touch the other, he was sorely mistaken, but instead he finished the first in record time and dissolved the sugar cube into the second.

"I'm not a media whore – I'm an _underground_ villain."

"Wow, you're **_boring_****!" **the man called, rattling the glass bottles with his voice and earning a disapproving look from the bartender. "Where's the pizzazz? You were gonna kill poor little lady Midnight and then … what?" Aizawa stared at him in surprise. What was he talking about? Why would he need to do more? Present Mic stirred the second glass of absinthe as he glanced him over again. "Got a name?"

"Don't need one."

"I'm gonna call you Eraserhead." Shouta paused. "What, you never use a pencil before, hun? Erasure: you Erase the Quirk of anyone you look at, but the effect only lasts 'til you blink or lose line of sight."

So, the intelligence he'd sensed earlier hadn't been a fluke. Smart, yet a total idiot.

The blond snickered, his voice reaching deeper, "Keep looking at me like that. It's turning me on~"

Aizawa scowled and stood up, "You're the _worst _fucking villain _ever."_

"Really?" He got up as well and leaned closer to him, "I've been told I'm pretty amazing at fucking, Shnookums~" Their eyes met through two sets of coloured lenses.

Something sparked in his stomach, a strange thrill, but he was too pissed to pay it any attention. "You wanna play guitar and sing? Be a musician. You try that shit again and call yourself a 'villain', I'll hang your body in the street." He had the urge to fling the blond's remaining drink to the ground, but he was too wary of the teleportation Quirk to risk messing up his bar.

The blond tilted his head forward. The upper beak hid his mouth, but Aizawa knew he was still grinning. "Oh baby, I'm more villain than you'll _ever _be. Tonight might've been my debut, but I've been playing this game for _years. _The difference between us is you 'chose' to be a villain, and that right there is a paradox."

He snorted. "You telling me you didn't choose to go out looking like a Looney Toons rip off? Could've fooled me."

Present Mic shook his head, that grin never faltering. "That's the difference between being a hero and being a villain, babe. A hero _chooses_ the path: a villain_ accepts_ it."

"Bullshit."

Through the orange lenses, he could just make out dancing pupils. "Fine. Let's make one thing clear, _Eraserhead. _The only reason you're free right now is because I think you're _fun._ If I hadn't brought you here, Kamui Woods and Midnight would've taken you down and you'd be spending five-to-ten years sitting in prison. You've got a cool Quirk, baby, _[super cool], _but you can only do so much with that little knife. You wanna kill heroes?" He pulled out a business card and slipped it into the front of Aizawa's belt. "Get yourself some tech. I'm sure we could come to some sorta agreement about the payment…"

Aizawa sneered beneath his mask. "Why would I want tech from _you_?"

"Cause I'm brilliant," he said with a roll of his shoulders as he sat back down, "and if you could _afford_ tech from anyone else, you wouldn't've debuted without it." Shouta pulled the card from his belt and ripped it in half. Present Mic snickered. "Suit yourself, babe, you'll know where to find me when you change your mind. Oh, and just for the record, Midnight is the one hero you're not allowed to touch." His voice grew more distorted, an almost demonic edge to it. "You touch her, and we'll have a problem."

Aizawa scoffed and turned to leave. Neither blond nor bartender tried to stop him.

He made his way to the street and inhaled the cold night air as he leaned against a wall for support. His debut had been a failure, all because of some idiot with a Voice Quirk, just like back then…

If he ever ran into the Voice Villain again, he'd gut him slowly.

-o-

Hizashi finished stirring his second drink, but didn't drink it now Eraserhead had left.

"Erasure Quirk," commented Kurogiri, "your worst enemy."

"I have ways of dealing with it," he said as he slid the full glass away.

The bartender eyed him warily. "He's put you in a bad mood," he observed.

No one else was around, and Kurogiri had closed the bar early for him, so Hizashi had no qualms with removing his mask now they were alone. "You know me so well, sweetie, but I was in a bad mood _before_ I debuted." He unclasped the latch on the back and carefully set it down, automatically smoothing out the new small moustache on his upper lip. The twenty-two-year-old pressed his forehead against the counter as the alcohol kicked in. "Did you have to _actually _give me absinthe?"

"Your fault for trying to show off."

Yamada rubbed the back of his neck, but couldn't ignore the annoyance bubbling inside him. He _laughed_, a joyless sound that rattled every bottle and glass in the establishment. Kurogiri didn't scold him anymore for it – the blond could pay for _anything _he accidentally broke. "That fucker ruined my song, you know? I was up to the final chorus, and he tried to knife me! Ack, it took me forever to find the perfect time to debut…"

"Why bring him here?"

"The news'll be more interesting."

"Let's check the theory," said the bartender as he took up the remote and turned on the television. He flipped through some channels and finally stopped on one with breaking news.

There it was, his big debut, on the screen. _That _filled him with excitement.

_"The heroes are searching the area for the two masked men whose identities are still unknown. One appears to have a Vocal Quirk while, according to the R-Rated Hero, the other is suspected to possess an Erasure Quirk, although these are yet to be confirmed." _They played footage that must've been recorded by the helicopter, showing Eraserhead trying to take down Midnight, before he swapped to attacking Present Mic. Whenever he was onscreen, Hizashi jiggled giddily with joy. _"If you have any relevant information, please contact the number below."_

He snorted. They were no longer near the area, thanks to his teleporter pal, although his wallet was going to feel a lot lighter tomorrow. It'd been worth it though, especially since it would be a while before he found the time to debut again. At least he didn't need to squeeze in time for his boyfriend anymore, now that they'd broken up, but that only made the night bitterer.

He continued to watch the screen, his eyes focusing on Eraserhead as he launched at him with the simple knife. Damn Mic looked so cool as he dodged!

An idea crossed his mind.

"Let's have some real fun with this…" He pulled his burner phone from his pocket and dialled the number on the screen, swapping his voice to a young frightened female's. "Excuse me," he said, putting on a semblance of fear, "but I've got information on the two masked men." There was a bit of chatter on the other line as his call was redirected, and although he was grinning, his smile couldn't be heard in his quaking tones. "The one with the blond hair is a villain by the name of Present Mic! I ran into him as he was making his escape, and he almost killed me, until the guy with black hair stopped him!"

"Did you catch the name of the other man?" asked the policeman on the phone.

"Yes. He told me he's sorry he attacked Midnight – it was a mix-up. His name is actually Eraserhead," Mic could barely keep himself from laughing, "and this was supposed to be his debut!"

"As a villain?"

"No." That man was going to pay for interrupting his song. "As a new pro-hero!"


	3. The Music of Sweet News

Chapter Three

**The Music of Sweet News**

"**_Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;  
If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news  
By playing it to me with so sour a face."  
(Juliet - Act 2, Scene 5)_**

Hizashi got home before his roommate did, and decided there was nothing he wanted to do more than sit on the couch with his cat and eat a tub of vanilla ice cream as he watched the latest reports (after a shower and a costume change, of course).

**ERASERHEAD VS. PRESENT MIC!**

That was the news headline, and he couldn't've felt prouder. Every station was talking about the new 'hero' and villain, and Hizashi only regretted that he wouldn't see the look on the idiot's face when he saw the name and put the pieces together.

…No, it wasn't right to call him an idiot. Despite the situation, the man had been an expert with that knife. If Hizashi hadn't had his tech, he'd definitely have a few extra holes in him right now…

He heard the front door, and his roommate called out, "I'm home!"

"Welcome home," he echoed through another vanilla spoonful.

Nemuri Kayama came into the living room, rubbing the back of her head, her hair still down from work. "What a night…" She slumped on the couch beside him and swiped his precious ice-cream tub, although Hizashi didn't put up much of a struggle before relinquishing it.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head and glanced at the TV as she swallowed a quick mouthful of vanilla. "Eraserhead, huh?"

"That's what they're calling him," he said innocently. "Your patrol could've been worse – _a lot_ worse – and you know it."

She looked at him, her eyes searching. The orbs dipped down to the ice-cream tub. "Do _you _wanna talk about _your_ day?"

"I'm _[pissed],"_ he grumbled as he stole back the dessert tub, "and it's not for the reason you think: Higari broke up with me. Bastard couldn't even wait 'til the end of work to do it either, had to do it when I clocked in, like a dickbag."

Nemuri hissed, "Tough break. I bet work's gonna be awkward tomorrow."

Hizashi sighed and handed back the vanilla ice-cream so he could hug a pillow against his chest. "Na, I'm super mature_."_

"You're wearing a pair of pink cat pyjamas."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm_ mature_, not _straight_."

"At least the break-up explains why you've been hogging all my ice-cream, unless something else happened tonight that you wanna talk about…"

He winked. "Nothing. At. All."

"Well, now that you've broken up…" She scooted close to him and pulled the cushion away, her face devilish. "You gonna let me ask about it?"

He rolled his eyes and when he spoke next, he was mimicking her voice. "Zaza, was he a real '_power loader' _between the sheets? What sort of kinky stuff did you do with his fingers? How did your poor-"

"Okay, okay," she conceded, "I'll drop it…"

"It just feels like a waste of three years, and I am [_super bitter]."_

"Did you love him?"

He rolled his eyes. "We had a good thing going. I always tried to make time for him, not my fault my schedule's-"

"You're avoiding the question."

He pouted at her, accusingly. "You know the answer. There's only one guy I've ever loved…"

"Maybe you should date people our age. I get that love and libido don't always see age as an issue, but the guy was thirty-two, right?"

"Right, because I'm just_ magically_ going to run into people our age…"

"Not magically," she said as she stood and moved to store the coveted ice-cream back in the freezer before either of them turned into pigs. His cat (named Heater) hurried after her, hoping for a late-night snack, but Nemuri didn't crumble (truly she had a stronger will than Hizashi did). "You forget 'bout what's coming up?"

The blond pulled out his civilian phone and checked his meticulously detailed calendar, and sure enough he realised what she was referring to. _"[Shit],_ forgot the reunion was this week." Something itched at the back of his mind, and it wasn't just his hearing-aids (although now that he thought about it, they _were _itchy too). "Think Shouta'll be there?" His chest fluttered.

Nemuri returned to the living room and leaned against the doorframe, a delicate frown shifting her features. "It's a mandatory event, since they _love_ sharing all the success stories, like ours, but…"

Yeah, Hizashi Yamada was _technically_ a success story. He'd graduated top of his Support Class, and had worked for Hero HQ ever since, designing tech for heroes and civilians alike. The pay was great. In fact, he would've been more than financially comfortable had that been his only job, but instead he worked three different gigs.

He worked for Hero HQ, was a DJ-for-Hire and ran his own radio show once a week. It kept him busy, and now he didn't have to worry about a needy boyfriend, he could focus on more important things, like his villainous antics.

"I wonder what Shouta's up to nowadays," he murmured, mostly to himself. An Erasure Quirk…

_Pick a voice and tell me what the fuck is going on._

He felt his Quirk squirm in his throat as he tried to copy the sound, but he knew he was unsuccessful – he couldn't copy from a memory.

"You think Aizawa _magically_ wants anything to do with us?" she asked, humourless disbelief in her tone. "He abandoned us! I know what happened was horrible, for both of you, but we didn't deserve to get shut out like that. I won't forgive him for how he treated you… The things he said and…"

Hizashi groaned and pulled the cat close against him, remembering back to better days. A kitten in a rainstorm, and two boys with their uniforms soaked through. "[_OKAY]," _he called in English, "I get it. Still, it might be nice to bridge that gap again, if he wants to." He wanted to try, at the very least.

"Pick up a one-night-stand at the reunion," she said as her eyes drifted between the TV and Hizashi. "Someone from _our _year, who you think'll be good in bed – that'll help you forget all about Power Loader and his magic fingers."

"You're really gross sometimes, you know that?" The scene of Eraserhead and Present Mic fighting resumed, and they both watched intently. "Be careful," he told her softly.

"Of which one?" she countered, a grin crossing her face.

He laughed. "The villain."

-x-

**ERASERHEAD VS. PRESENT MIC!**

Shouta turned the TV off calmly, although the rage was burning hot in his gut.

_I'm gonna call you Eraserhead._

They were calling him a brand-new hero, and the man responsible was the one in the clip they referred to as the villain. He grabbed a few yen coins from his table, with a plan to go to the nearest public phonebooth to call the station and tell them 'Eraserhead' was actually a villain (and Present Mic was just an attention seeking joke), but he decided he was too tired for that much effort.

He wasn't stupid enough to call on his mobile either, so he decided to do … nothing at all. Aizawa dropped the money and glanced lazily around his shoddy home.

To call it an apartment was overly generous. The place had more in common with a closet than anything else, with the only difference being the attached bathroom. His entire life fit into these two small rooms, so that's all he needed. Even the furniture was sparse, with barely anything besides the table, the small TV, and a minibar. The place didn't have a kitchen, just a small portable stove and a kettle full of tap water (although these were mostly untouched). In the corner were a few tins of cheap cat food, although he didn't actually own a cat since the landlord had allergies (and seemingly a sixth sense whenever he'd snuck one home in the past).

Hell, he didn't bother with a futon either; his trusty yellow sleeping bag kept him warm through the cold nights.

His mask sat to the side, the red lenses in dire need of replacement. Only now had the ringing stopped, and he gathered enough energy to move to the bathroom and splash water on his face, to ensure his queasiness subsided. Dried blood still clung to his ears but, although it itched, he determined to wash it off in the shower instead.

In the dirty mirror, he caught sight of his reflection.

His unbrushed hair reached the tops of his shoulders and it was the same black as the course stubble that covered his jawline. For the past few years he'd worked as a bouncer, and the facial hair had been a necessary touch to up his level of intimidation.

_Eraserhead._

He scowled at his reflection. Soon this wouldn't matter. In a few days, everyone would forget all about this little hiccup in his plan. The citizens were fickle creatures.

In a few days, Aizawa could debut successfully, although now he had to choose a new hero to takedown since Midnight would be too guarded.

But who…?

He pulled out his phone and checked over his schedule, sighing when he reminded himself how busy he was. He had work most nights this week, and the school reunion was also approaching.

Perhaps he could use the opportunity to plant explosives and-

Where was he going to get explosives? How could he afford them?

Present Mic had been right, and he hated it. Aizawa was a solo villain, without any contacts he could rely on for cheap supplies or integral information. He worked alone, naturally. He didn't exactly get a lot of money for his bouncer career either, but he knew the job inside and out, and hadn't felt particularly interested in quitting and seeking something with higher pay.

He'd made his mask himself, and even that had taken him months and multiple attempts.

Now he didn't even have his knife.

Some underground villain he was…

"A villain only bar," he murmured to himself, thoughtful. It was an interesting concept, and when he thought about it, it made some sense, especially with the bartender's remarkable Quirk. Aizawa had _some_ contacts in villain circles, of course, but they were few, far between and unimpressive small fry. Despite the annoyance of his first visit, a second visit could be useful.

He pulled off his sweaty black jumpsuit and stepped inside the shower, not bothering to test the temperature as he lifted the tap. The water was always too hot or too cold, with no in between, but the lack of pain told him tonight it was the latter.

_You wanna kill heroes? Get yourself some tech. I'm sure we could come to some sorta agreement about the payment…_

He washed his hair half-heartedly, his mind distracted by the events of his failed debut as he rinsed away the dried blood. No, it'd been worse than a failure: the news was calling him a _hero._

Well, he just had to debut for real, and make sure it was as bloody and as violent as possible. Next time, he would leave no room for doubt.

-x-

Work _was _awkward the next day, but Hizashi pretended it didn't bother him. Power Loader avoided him whenever possible and he was thankful for that – he had far too much on his mind to bother with small talk. However, today Hizashi had a unique task: investigate the 'strange new villain's' platform structure with his ex-boyfriend.

Shit. The platform should've automatically detonated upon sensing zero people nearby, but something must've malfunctioned. If Power Loader saw the internals, Present Mic was done for: Higari was the only person in the entire world who'd recognise Hizashi's technical trademarks.

"Hey," Hizashi said softly, feigning discomfort as he spoke with his ex, "I'd rather do this alone." If he acted convincingly, he could pretend he didn't want Power Loader around due to awkward tension after their breakup, as opposed to his more nefarious reasoning.

Higari nodded in understanding and tried to stay professional. "Okay, just be thorough with the report, Hi- …Yamada." Perfect.

He'd rewire the explosive and set it off manually. It would be suspicious, unless…

If he got caught in the explosion, he'd appear innocent. Yes, he'd be just a helpless young techie, tinkering with something a tad too advanced, and… Well, he was a _great _actor.

-x-

The bottom floor had been gutted, but no one'd been injured – Hizashi had ensured that. Now the cubicles were void of life and would continue to be so until the all-clear was signalled. It was thrilling to know how much control he had over the workers' lives. If he said the platform wasn't safe, he could drag out their 'vacation' for several days before they'd call in a second opinion, but he wasn't crazy enough to do that.

He walked up the stairs without complaint, although he was sweaty by the time he reached the top. Not out of breath, though: Hizashi was_ rarely_ out of breath.

His platform was predominantly untouched, with nothing moved or altered since last night, and he instantly set to work, pulling out his portable screwdriver and accessing the internal wiring through the central control panel. One of the cable circuits had been detached, probably by his voice when he'd gone all-out at Eraserhead, but it was a rather routine fix.

He secured the wiring and reinserted the cable, sighing when a small green light appeared to his left. The moment he walked away, the platform would explode, but he'd look too suspicious if he got out scot-free. He'd have to lessen the explosive force and let himself get accidentally caught in the subdued blow. It was a stupid plan, and a basic one too, but sometimes to fool people you just had to do something_ stupid_. He fiddled with the switch, but froze when he saw the green light turn red and-

His hearing-aids cut out as sound ripped the air. The force slammed into him like a brick wall, and he skidded and bounced across the rooftop, his body felling like a ragdoll's. A sense of weightlessness kicked his head into gear, and he managed to grab the edge of the building moments before he was completely flung free.

His glasses were gone and everything was a blur. His hearing-aids couldn't decide if they were broken or not. All he heard was discordant ringing. Hizashi nebulously realised that his legs were dangling in open air, with an eleven-storey drop awaiting below.

Heat ran down his forehead, and his body was aching, but if he let go, he'd certainly die.

His head was jumping all over the place, but he tried to centre himself by logic-ing through the chain of events. The platform had exploded. The blast had been lessened, thanks to his last-minute tinkering, but he'd been too close to the centre of the explosion. The sensor must've malfunctioned too, and he cursed himself for not checking that part first.

Now he was dangling for his life. His head was ringing, his senses were askew, and he was in pain.

Well, his stupid plan had been a success, he told himself numbly. Now he needed to survive the aftermath.

Hizashi heard screams below, a detail that answered the earlier question about his hearing-aids. Even so, he couldn't keep himself from rolling his eyes. He was the one who should've been screaming…

Nevertheless, he had an audience, and that calmed him, despite the circumstances.

The blond tried to pull himself up, but that was easier said than done. His workouts always focused on flexibility and finesse as opposed to physical strength, and while he was by no means a weak man, his body felt incredibly heavy. He just needed to properly lever his hips and-

There were more cries from below. He risked a look back and was amazed by the sight of a shadow leaping across the gap from the nearest building. They landed neatly beside his arms and wordlessly grabbed Hizashi to help him up.

Oh good, a hero.

Their grip wasn't gentle, but he didn't rebuff the help. A pleasant spark coursed through him at the contact, especially when strong arms wrapped around him, steadied him, and once Hizashi was safe he finally looked at his saviour, words of gratitude already on his tongue until-

Cracked red lenses leered over him.

_Shit._

Eraserhead was his 'saviour'.

So many questions ran through his mind, but all were ultimately unnecessary. Eraser was surely going to kill him for last night, and Present Mic didn't have any tech to defend himself this time. He could use his Quirk, but-

The building shook. He and Eraserhead glanced at the smouldering platform – the speakers must've blown through the support structures below.

"It's gonna collapse," Hizashi said quickly as he analysed the immediate situation. In his shock, he'd forgotten to change his voice. Now Eraserhead knew-

The man grabbed him and held him close as he leapt for the nearest roof. There was a roar as the building caved, and more screams echoed below, but all Hizashi could feel was the warmth of this man pressed against him. Something about his scent was comforting. He knew it shouldn't've been; this man should've reeked of death and pain and terror, but…

Once safe, the man instantly released him. Hizashi's butt hit the ground, and he hissed at the slight discomfort, but Eraserhead was above him and the blond had worse things to focus on. He was certainly done for. The man would kill him brutally, would probably torture him slowly, but instead the villain did something … unexpected.

Eraserhead fled.

Hizashi stared in amazement as the 'villain' disappeared into an alleyway below, leaving the blond to sit there alone in utter confusion. His mind was almost blank. The only question left running through his head drowned out every other possible thought with its sheer absurdity.

Had _Eraserhead_ just _saved _him?


	4. Talk of Peace

Chapter Four

**Talk of Peace**

**_"What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate the word,  
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee.  
Have at thee, coward."  
(Tybalt - Act 1, Scene 1)_**

Aizawa had some time before his job began, and he decided to spend it searching for his lost knife. It'd been rather expensive, and there'd been no mention of it on the news, so it was worth a trip.

He took the train, a backpack slung over his shoulder with his villain mask hidden safely inside – he had to take it with him while he bought the glass to replace the lenses – but he wouldn't have time to attempt a second debut this soon.

The police had cornered off several sections of the area to keep prying civilians at bay, but Aizawa didn't try to get around them as he scouted the site for his knife. It must've fallen outside the vicinity, if it had yet to be found.

However, his search came to an unexpected end when he caught sight of blond hair.

Aizawa ducked behind a corner, his hands shaking. Maybe he'd been mistaken. It'd been years since he'd last seen _him _in person, so there was no way he would've miraculously recognised _him _in a huge crowd, but…

He glanced around the corner, his stomach feeling strange.

His blond hair was just long enough to tie in a short ponytail. On his upper lip was a small moustache, still growing but carefully managed, and his circular glasses were outrageous with bright red frames that reminded Aizawa vaguely of his own mask.

At twenty-two, Hizashi Yamada finally looked like an adult.

From memory, he worked at Hero HQ in the support ware department, a clear career choice for someone who'd graduated top of the Support Course.

_It's a promise, Sho._

Aizawa bit his lip but couldn't keep himself from watching him from beyond the corner. An old ache stirred inside. He looked … _good, _and he didn't know how he was supposed to react to that information.

Yamada approached the policemen on duty and flashed a card. They let him through without issue, and he disappeared inside one of the cornered off buildings. What was he doing here? Right, that was the building with Present Mic's platform on the roof, so he was probably there to examine it.

With the blond out of sight (if not out of mind), Aizawa continued searching for his knife, but his quest was interrupted by the sound of an explosion. When he looked up, pieces of Present Mic's platform were flying in all direction, but his attention had focused on a splay of blond hair and tight pants.

Hizashi Yamada was dangling off the side of the building.

Aizawa's stomach clenched at the sight, and his feet were moving before he'd even thought through his actions. The police were too distracted calming the people to notice him slip beneath the caution tape, and he pulled on his mask before he was identified: he'd rather Hizashi _not _recognise him.

Aizawa climbed up the fire escape of the nearest building and leapt the gap between so he could pull Hizashi to safety. A spark coursed through him when he held him, but he chalked it up to adrenaline - and_ not_ to the thrum he'd felt when they'd been young. Then those green eyes looked up at him and were filled with such intense fear that, for a moment, he was transported back to that day, eight years ago, when Hizashi had looked at him with a similar expression. It didn't help that the blond had been battered by the explosion, with a few bleeding cuts across his cheeks, and Shouta was frozen in place.

"It's gonna collapse," Hizashi said as the building shook beneath them, and Aizawa started at that voice as it drew him back to reality.

Fuck, when had he last heard that voice? It'd been far too long. It always made his stomach feel strange. Still, Shouta said nothing: Yamada'd always had a knack for knowing voices, even better than appearances – came with his Quirk's territory.

After resisting the sound of that voice, Aizawa identified the words: _it's gonna collapse._

He grabbed Hizashi and pulled him close as he leapt the distance to the next roof over. The blond felt warm in his arms, and the feeling was accompanied by an odd sense of Deja-Vu, but he couldn't think of anything more than his primal drive to get his ex-friend to safety.

Once that was achieved, he dropped the blond and was about to check him over to see if he was okay, when he looked up at him with that same look of fear.

Fuck. He couldn't deal with that look anymore.

Aizawa turned and fled like a coward.

He leapt off the building, using a drainage pipe to slide safely to the ground, and raced around the back alleys until he was finally, without a doubt, alone. He removed his mask and bit his lip in frustration.

What if Hizashi had recognised him? It'd been stupid to jump into action and save him, especially since Aizawa was a **villain, **but seeing Yamada dangling close to death had brought back too many undesired memories.

He'd regret this later, but if the blond had fallen and died, he would've regretted _that _more than anything.

Aizawa leaned against the cool brick wall, sighing. It's okay, he hadn't said anything… What would Hizashi do, if he found out Shouta had become a villain? Would he blame himself? Probably…

Actually, Aizawa didn't even know. They'd been best friends once, sure, but that had been only briefly, until…

He shoved the mask back into his bag and pushed the thought of the Sports Festival from his mind as he hurried to work.

He'd been a bouncer at the EXTRO-DANCER Club for years with few complaints. The pay was average at best, but it had given him a reason to stay physically fit for all this time, so he wasn't one to complain about it. Most nights he didn't need to do anything strenuous, so long as he looked intimidating enough.

The building across from the club had a giant TV screen on its side that typically sputtered out flashy advertisement after flashy advertisement, but would occasionally regale the passing observers with current news stories. Aizawa's night progressed smoothly, until he paused for just a moment and noticed the flashing headline.

**NEW PRO-HERO ERASERHEAD SAVES WORKER FROM COLLAPSING BUILDING!**

_Fuck._

-x-

It'd been a long day for Hizashi Yamada. As soon as he'd climbed down the fire escape, he'd been swarmed by police officers. They'd taken his statement of events while they patched him up, and they'd even recovered his glasses with only minor damage, although he'd have to get some of the parts replaced.

Even though he was been forced to play his most hated role (the victim), the attention was _nice. _Hizashi grinned and played his part, especially when the reporters came to talk with him after the police left him to his own devices.

They shoved their cameras in his face, waved their microphones so close they practically pressed against his skin, and Hizashi Yamada was in heaven.

"Well you see, I can't talk about my job," he said while flicking his hair, "it's all [_super-secret_]. However, I _can_ tell you I was here to ensure this Present Mic's platform cube could be safely dismantled, but it must've been rigged to detonate. Thankfully the blast was only minimal, but as you can see, [_Dear Listeners], _I was caught in the blast." He pulled a dramatic expression. "I was flung back and would've surely met my demise, had it not been for that new hero everyone's been talking about!" Hizashi swooned, and the reporters ate it up, especially when he made a heart with his hands and added in English, "_[He's my hero!]"_

Of course he also took the chance to plug his radio show, already accepting that Nemuri would call him a 'media whore' for the next three weeks. She wouldn't be lying. He **loved **attention. Even so, it inevitably ended, and he was forced back to work.

While Hizashi didn't doubt he could've easily rescued himself, it was still rather sweet that Eraserhead had saved him (albeit strange).

What if Eraserhead _had _recognised him, but not as Present Mic? He would work off that assumption when he next saw him. There was an odd suspicion rearing, but he didn't want to think about it right now. After all, he'd have the chance to test his theory at the reunion.

As soon as he walked through those doors, Power Loader was in front of him. "Hizashi," he said, clearly concerned, "are you okay? I got the news. I should've been there."

The blond played it off sheepishly. "Then we both would've been hurt."

"What triggered it?"

"Not sure, I just opened up the control panel and_ boom_. I guess I should've been more careful with scanning it…"

Power Loader looked unsure. "I know you, Hi-Fi," must've been worried if he was breaking out _that_ nickname, "and I know you're more shaken than you're letting on. We should get a drink."

Pfft, showed how little he knew him after all. Hizashi had nerves of steel (except when it came to insects). He forced a grin and light-heartedly joked, "You're the one who broke up with me, babe. Regretting it so soon?"

"I know, I just … I don't want things to be awkward between us."

Hizashi sighed. He needed a cigarette. "Why'd you break up with me anyway? I know it's hard with how busy I am, but-"

"You don't love me, Hi-Fi," the man said simply. "You never have, and you never will, and you deserve something better than that. I never mentioned it, but … I know about your phone's background." Hizashi went rigid. "We were dating for three years, and it's never changed…"

Hizashi _really _needed a cigarette. "Well I wish you luck in your future romantic endeavours," he said cheerily, "but I'll pass on that drink. I've got the reunion tomorrow, so I plan to spend tonight _not_ getting wasted."

The man nodded but didn't look entirely convinced. Maybe he knew Hizashi better than he gave credit for, because it really was a lie. He had better places to be tonight…

-x-

When Aizawa arrived at the villain only bar, there were a few clients around, but when they saw him, they looked nervous, and several immediately left. The bartender glanced him over, clearly recognising the (repaired) mask as he gestured at one of the stools. "What're you drinking?"

Shouta sat down where he gestured. No Present Mic… yet.

"Gonna ban me?" he said roughly. One of the patrons was staring at him, but a quick flash of Erasure taught him to mind his own business.

"Not unless you give me reason to," the mist man said, rather pleasantly. "I know a villain when I see one, and Present Mic might be an 'interesting' man, but I don't question his judgement. So, I reiterate, what're you drinking? I'll put it on his tab."

"Sounds like he's rolling in cash…"

"I'm Kurogiri," he introduced.

Aizawa grunted. "Gin and tonic, if he's buying." Kurogiri nodded and turned to fetch the drink, mist drifting about his body. Shouta found himself watching it, mesmerised by the distraction after a long shift at his civilian job. "What d'you charge for teleportation anyway?"

"A lot," he answered instantly, "and I only offer it to those I trust."

"You trust that loudmouth?"

"You wouldn't be here if I didn't." He set the drink down in front of him, and Aizawa carefully unclipped the metal mouth-covering of his mask so he could drink it. "If you want to meet with Present Mic, he doesn't usually-" Kurogiri stopped himself and Aizawa could easily guess why.

"Ooo, you _are _fun~!" The voice was the same one he'd settled on last night, with the sound quality of an old radio personality, complete with light crackling and occasional pitching. He heard Present Mic's boots as they trudged across the floor, towards him, but Aizawa didn't spare him a glance, even as he installed himself in the stool beside him. "Didn't think you'd bite _this_ soon." Shouta paid him no mind, until something was placed on the counter in front of him: his hunting knife. "You lost this."

Aizawa eyed it carefully, trying to recognise any strange devices or explosives planted on it, but overall it seemed untouched. Even so, he silently slid it back to the 'villain'.

Present Mic laughed and gestured to Kurogiri. "Hey sweetie, can you drop this in the dumpster out back?"

"Mic," said the bartender in a warning voice, "I'm not-"

"We'll call it even on the door alarm." Whatever they were talking about made the mist man pause, and moments later his knife was gone. Present Mic turned back to Aizawa, his grin thick and perfect through the gap in his bird mask. "I tried being nice," he said with a shrug. "I get that pride's one of the big sins, but you really have to do something about that if you ever want to be a successful villain. Pride _only _gets in the way. Maybe a little dumpster diving will straighten you out, baby~"

Aizawa sipped his gin and tonic, trying to remember why he'd even dragged himself there in the first place. Mic leaned over the counter and snagged a remote, his movements fluid and pronounced. The Erasure villain 'accidentally' caught sight of his ass, pressed tight in his red leather pants – if it'd belonged to anyone else, he might've been interested.

Mic sat back before the sight became a concern, and flicked the TV on, just in time for the cringey English that'd been running through his head all day.

**_"[He's my hero~!]"_**

He looked at the screen, caught off-guard by the sight of Hizashi Yamada. There were band-aids on his cheeks, but although he was a little battered, he looked _good. _It was odd to see him like this. His life was so together, despite everything they'd both gone through, while Aizawa's life had been in ruins since **_that_**** day**…

"Such a hero," Mic purred beside him. "Why'd you save the cutie anyway? Looks like a nice piece of ass, but he deserved to fall for messing with my-"

Aizawa's hand shot out automatically and grabbed him by his jacket. He wrenched him to his feet, his Erasure Quirk activated. "Touch him," he growled, "and I gut you like the pig you are."

The man's body lurched oddly, as if he were choking. Still, he regained his composure and made several quick hand gestures. While Aizawa didn't understand what they meant, he recognised them as Japanese Sign Language, although they weren't directed at him…

"I suggest," said the bartender, his voice low and dangerous, "you take this outside."

Aizawa remembered to turn off Erasure as he looked at the mist-man, who had his arms up, clearly deciding whether it was worth banning him forever. Mic must've been communicating with him then.

As soon as he deactivated his Quirk, the blond laughed. "With those red lenses, I shoulda called you Brake Light. You wanna take this outside, baby? I'll fight you, if that's why you came here, but there's really no point to it. If you fight me and anyone sees, you're just gonna be on the news again, [_hero]."_

Shouta inhaled deeply and stood up, releasing the blond's jacket. He didn't know why he'd bothered to show up, probably just to confirm this place really existed. "Thanks for the drink," he murmured to the bartender.

Aizawa went to leave, but was stopped by a voice – his _own _voice. "_Thanks for the drink_," it repeated. He turned back, his fists curling, but Present Mic wasn't smiling anymore. The blond smacked his wet lips, his pink tongue running across them, as if he were _tasting _Shouta's voice. That thought sparked an odd, almost pleasant, reaction in his body, but he ignored it. When Mic spoke next, it was back in that radio voice, albeit serious. "You came because you want tech, Eraserhead. Don't let your pride be your downfall. Don't burn this bridge just because you can't handle my tongue, _baby."_

He scowled, but the man was right about one thing: Aizawa wanted tech. Right now he was a one-trick pony, and he needed something to give him an edge. That thought alone made him pause. "I can't pay you."

Mic rolled his shoulders – something seemed _different _about him. The Voice Villain fiddled with his leather jacket and revealed a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He lit one and inhaled, before offering one to him, but Aizawa didn't acknowledge the action, let alone take one. He wasn't stupid enough to put anything this 'villain' offered in his mouth.

Present Mic was seemingly unoffended as he slipped the packet away, but Aizawa noticed that, when he blew out the (impressive) puff of smoke, he aimed it away from him.

This guy had crazy lung capacity.

His perfect grin reappeared, and the smoke filtered the lights above, casting odd reflections across his orange specs. "If I wanted money, I have plenty of others at my beck and call. I _am _the best, after all."

A lie, of course. This villain wasn't the best techie around. The best techie Aizawa knew had almost been killed today, messing with this man's shoddy platform. Hizashi Yamada was the best, would _always_ be the best, but there were so many reasons he couldn't go to him with this issue: too many to list and too many to confront.


	5. Mad Blood

Chapter Five

**Mad Blood**

"**_The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,  
And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl,  
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring."  
(Benvolio – Act 3, Scene 1)_**

His heart was pounding in his chest, almost painfully, but the cigarette helped steady his nerves. Hizashi had copied Eraserhead's voice with those words, could feel the weight of it in his chest, but he felt conflicted. It was similar, that was undeniable, but there was no possible way this man was…

The blond looked him over: the same Quirk, the same hair, the same voice. Maybe he had a twin brother? How could _Shouta Aizawa_ be this man beside him, trying to become a villain, when once he'd wanted to be a hero?

_Fine, Zashi. Promise._

Eight years. What'd happened over the past eight years? Had SYN… No! This man couldn't possibly be him!

Not-Shouta stared down at the bar, red lenses flickering in the shoddy bar lights. "What sort of payment?"

Was he playing innocent? Hizashi had made it _very clear_ what sort of payment he wanted, especially considering his recent break-up…

But this revelation threw a spanner in that idea. If this was _Shouta Aizawa, _could he even do something-

Of course he could. Unlike Shouta Aizawa, Present Mic was a **villain.**

"I'll give you a _series_ of tasks. For each one you complete, we'll plan out what you want. Complete all the tasks, and I'll give you the tech. I warn you though, I _am _a villain, so although I _[promise]_ to follow through, there's no telling what sorts of harsh, torturous, gruelling tasks I'll have you-"

"Pass," Not-Shouta said deeply, and went to leave.

Hizashi laughed but didn't try to stop him. He needed time to think. "Well, I'll be seeing you real soon, _[hero]!"_ Not-Shouta left without looking back, and the blond's shoulders instantly slumped. He tapped on the bar, and murmured, "Beer."

Kurogiri poured him the drink from the tap and slid it over, before he turned his attention to cleaning Eraserhead's empty glass. "Must've been a bitter breakup."

Mic shrugged, took another drag of the cigarette, and turned his body away from the door. "Do I really seem that bitter? I mean, I didn't think we'd be together forever, but-"

"No, I'm referring to Eraserhead. You must've had a bitter breakup."

Hizashi faltered. "_What?" _His Quirk rattled the glasses, but the other patrons didn't spare him a look – Present Mic had been a fixture there for a long time. "We only met yesterday!"

"You know I'm here to talk if you want to stop lying."

He rolled his eyes. "We_ did_. It's just… He reminds me of someone I used to know, but it can't possibly be him."

"Bitter breakup?"

He lowered his head and his teeth worried the end of the death-stick. "Yes and no. We never dated… We were best friends, for a short time, but…" His fingers ran to the phone in his pocket as he thought of his background image. "I guess I'll confirm it soon enough."

"Why'd you fall out?"

Hizashi closed his eyes and thought about Eraserhead's voice, and the sight of his lenses glowing while his Quirk had been active. God, that'd been sexy…

"He wanted to be a hero, but I ruined his chance." He sipped the beer, but thought back to the day in early April when he'd first met Shouta Aizawa beneath the last blossoming sakura tree, when they'd both made their promise… A devilish grin slid across his lips and he stubbed the cigarette into the ashtray. "And now, I guess I'll have to ruin his chance at being a villain too."

-x-

Luckily, his knife was at the very top of the dumpster, so Aizawa didn't need to do much diving to retrieve it. Upon leaving the bar, he'd made up his mind: he was going to debut tonight.

He didn't plan to do anything newsworthy, like kill a hero, but he knew he had to do _something. _That came in the form of a man and a woman, walking alone through the quiet alleyways, dressed to the nines. This area was safer than most (likely the reason Kurogiri had located his secret bar right in the heart of it) so the duo didn't appear worried about their hazardous shortcut.

He'd mug them. Although he'd imagined a grander crime for his debut, by now he didn't give a fuck. Besides, a few extra yen to his name wouldn't be a downside.

Aizawa activated his Quirk as he approached them, turning the two circular lenses of his mask into two glowing brake lights – god he hated that analogy. The citizens stopped in their tracks and the man stepped in front of the woman to protect her, but at the sight of him the tension … changed.

The man _smiled. _"Eraserhead!" he said, excited. "You're patrolling this area?"

The woman laughed, her shoulders slumping as she let down her guard. "You scared us! That mask makes you look so scary. I bet you and Gang Orca have a lot in common with-"

He brandished his knife and aimed it at them. "Wallets. Now."

They stared with a mixture of awe, amazement and confusion. To his annoyance, they didn't reach for their money right away, instead turning to each other. "I guess he doesn't get paid, since he isn't working for anyone," the man said to her. "Isn't it sad when the government forces our best heroes to beg for donations?"

She nodded and turned back to Aizawa while reaching for her purse, "Here you are, sir. We're huge fans."

Shouta wanted to scream. "I'm aiming a knife at you. I'm not _asking _for _donations, _I'm _stealing _your _money."_

Instead of pleading for their lives, the two nodded like bobbleheads. "Of course, if it were a 'donation' you'd have to pay tax, but if it's 'stealing', well… What the government doesn't know won't hurt them." They offered their wallet and purse, and chimed, "Keep up the good fight."

Aizawa had half a mind to kill them both right then and there, but they were interrupted by a figure emerging behind them. "Better hold onto those wallets and put your hands up, _[groupies], _cause I'm the one who wants 'em~!"

His stomach twisted with rage as Present Mic approached, the neon lights on his shoulder pads burning through the darkness while his electric guitar was already in hand. The man and woman turned and gasped in shock, instantly moving behind their 'hero' for protection, cowering as the blond strummed his strings in quick succession, his heavy boots tapping out beats in place of drums. Aizawa aimed his knife at him, his Quirk flaring and stifling any words before they came out.

However, Present Mic must've made a few modifications to his guitar.

As the music shifted into a riff, his finger hit some new red button at its top, and brilliant lights burst across the surface, temporarily blinding Aizawa just as the song began.

"**_[Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on, livin' like a lover with a radar phone!]" _**His voice rocked waves through him, and he was forced to cover his ears while he struggled with his blurred vision. The man and woman cried in pain too and something about that sound made his stomach turn. **_"[Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp, demolition woman, can I be your man?]"_**

It should've been an easy decision. If he abandoned these people to whatever Present Mic had planned for them, he could still play it off as being a villain, but his feet refused to run. Instead, he had a better idea.

He'd kill this idiot in front of these civilians and paint the alleyway with his blood. First, however, he had to figure out how to shut him up without blinding himself.

**_"[Razzle 'n' dazzle 'n' a flash a little light, television lover, baby, go all night! Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet! Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah! C'mon!]"_**

Wait until the guitar solo, he told himself, when he wasn't using his voice to shake up his senses.

**_"[Take a bottle! Shake it up! Break the bubble! Break it up!]" _**Aizawa braced himself for the chorus. **_"[Pour some SUGAR on ME~!]" _**His feet skidded across the pavement as he took the brunt of the sound waves, barely noticing how he stood in front of the helpless civilians.**_ "[Oh, in the name of love! Pour some SUGAR on ME~! C'mon, fire me up! Pour your SUGAR on ME~! Oh, I can't get enough!]"_**

The lights on the guitar flared momentarily, then flickered and died, but it was difficult to gauge whether this was intentional or not as Present Mic didn't relent for even a moment.

_"__**[I'm hot~! Sticky sweet, from my head to my feet, yeah!]"**_

The lyrics paused, long enough for Aizawa to lunge at him, and with the light gone he reactivated his Erasure Quirk. Mic didn't dodge his knife, instead choosing to catch the blade on his guitar. It sliced across the surface, leaving a gash in the paintjob, but failing to break through.

A tremble wracked the blond's body as he leapt back, but his fingers still worked the guitar strings, and Aizawa once again questioned what effect his Erasure Quirk had on him. He remembered back to the bar, to the billow of cigarette smoke that had left that perfect mouth, and something fell into place.

_Crazy lung capacity._

Despite how calm he remained, he really couldn't breathe. So then, Aizawa just had to keep his eyes on him for as long as possible.

That was the real battle. Could Aizawa's eyes last longer than Present Mic's lungs?

He lashed again with the knife, a thrum of pride coursing through him when Mic's fingers stalled as he tried to dodge. His blade caught on his arm, successfully slicing through leather, and there was blood on the metal, but the silent Voice Villain couldn't even hiss in pain. Boring.

"You're awesome, Eraserhead!" cried one of the civilians, their hands still clutched over their ears. "We'll call for backup!"

"I'm not a _fucking _hero!" he yelled, but his voice was drowned out by Mic's rekindled guitar playing. Nevertheless, something must've unsettled the blond, for only moments later he turned and fled into an alleyway, the song cut short. Aizawa was caught off-guard, however, by the sound of something roaring, closer and closer. It sounded like a car engine.

It sounded… _familiar._

Shit.

Aizawa turned in the opposite direction to Present Mic and fled the scene before the Turbo Hero arrived. He hunkered down in a back-alleyway, clinging tight to the shadows as Tensei Iida flew by on his Engine Quirk legs.

Sweat ran down the villain's forehead, and his stomach curled with contempt as he weighed his chances at success if he fought Ingenium right now, without any preparation, with his senses still shaken by the point-blank chorus. Victory _was_ possible, but the chance was slim. Iida wasn't totally reliant on his Quirk. One day he'd be in sight, but for tonight Aizawa was forced into hiding.

His ears kept ringing from the blond's attack, but he got some satisfaction from the memory of harming him. Besides, he knew about his Quirk's effect now: whenever Erasure was active and aimed at him, Present Mic couldn't breathe.

-x-

Hizashi had difficulty falling asleep that night. His arm stung where Eraserhead's knife had nicked him, even though he'd cleaned and covered it properly (especially considering the knife had been in a dumpster). Fleeing due to Ingenium wasn't an ideal end to his fight with Not-Shouta, but it'd been better than the alternative: Eraserhead had had some warning. Besides, an earful from Tensei was the last thing he needed right now.

"An earful?" Hizashi murmured with a sigh, although without his hearing-aids in he couldn't hear what he said. "That damn paladin would've hurled your cute ass straight into jail. Wouldn't even blame him, he always struggled to see the bigger picture…"

Despite that, he blamed his troubled sleep on nerves: tomorrow was the reunion, and he'd find out for certain whether Eraserhead and Shouta Aizawa were one and the same.

From his bedside table he pulled his phone and flicked it on. The sudden light left him dazed, but the sight of the background made his chest feel lighter, as it always did.

Whether Sho was Eraserhead or not, he still thrummed nervously at the prospect of seeing him again after all these years…

-x-

Hizashi was awoken by Nemuri shaking him, her lips flapping silently. He gestured at his ears and she rolled her eyes before handing him his box of hearing-aids. Once they were in, she immediately waved her phone in his face, "Look!"

"Welcome home," he murmured politely as he tried to focus on the blinding screen without his glasses.

_Hero or Villain?_

He sat up, taking it from her so he could have a better look. "Another article about Eraserhead?"

"Read it."

_Last night, two civilians were held at knifepoint by the newest 'hero', Eraserhead, but were saved by the newest 'villain' Present Mic. While the civilians claim Eraserhead wasn't violent towards them and believed he only needed the money as he wasn't working directly for any hero organisation, this behaviour has brought into question the hero's status, while also raising questions about the status of Present Mic. Footage from their initial fight has gone viral, with many now suspecting there's a chance Eraserhead was a villain and Present Mic is the real hero for saving pro-hero Midnight from the armed assailant. Please complete the poll below:_

_Is Eraserhead a villain and Present Mic a hero?_

Hizashi stared, incredulous, and quickly pressed no to view the poll results. About 71% had said no as well, but an alarming 29% had said yes! What? How could anyone possibly think _Present Mic_ was a _hero_?

Yamada shook his head in disbelief and laughed. "This is _hilarious!_"

"Is he a hero or a villain?"

He snorted. "At the moment? Does it matter? This is [_beautiful]_!" Hizashi leapt out of bed and threw his clothes to the floor as he got ready for an early day of work.

"Any idea why Eraserhead saved you? I mean, you now kinda owe him," she said as she put her phone away, "and since you're now single, I'd prefer it if you paid him back in a sexy way…"

He gasped in faux shock. "You're suggesting I allow a potential villain to have his _[wicked]_ way with me, right on the rebound?"

"Dah."

"_[So sexy, lady!]_" He snickered and brushed his hair, before tying it in a short ponytail. "Not sure why he saved me. Maybe I know him."

"Think he recognised you? Maybe he thought the world would be a nicer place without you in it, so decided it was more villainous to rescue you instead."

_"[So mean, sexy lady!]" _He pulled on his jacket and struck a few poses. "I'm heading out, yo!"

Nemuri glanced at the clock on her phone as she asked, "So early? Someone's eager. You really got morning wood for work…"

"Gross. Reunion's tonight, so if I start early, they might let me off earlier so I can get ready. I've got that speech to give for the Support Course, so I wanna be lookin' my most_ [plus ultra!]"_

Her face went from humorous to serious in seconds. "Look Zaza, don't get your hopes up on Shouta, okay? I don't wanna see you heartbroken if he blows you off. While I love the passion you still feel for him, you should try to feel that same passion for something else – or _someone _else."

He considered telling her about his Eraserhead theory, but decided to leave her in the dark for now. Tonight he'd confirm or deny it, but until then it didn't need to be public information.

"Fine, if he doesn't wanna make amends I'll have a one-night-stand with someone else. Happy?"

She rolled her eyes but was appeased. "Okay, lover boy, I'm getting some sleep before tonight. Don't blow anything else up."

"No promises, baby!" With that said, he was out the door.

So, people thought Present Mic was a hero, huh? People were so fickle…

* * *

Song: Pour Some Sugar on Me (Def Leppard)

Reviews are appreciated!


	6. In Spite, To Scorn

Chapter Six

**In Spite, To Scorn**

**_"A villain that is hither come in spite,_**

**_To scorn at our solemnity this night."_**

_(Tybalt - Act 1, Scene 5)_

It was the day of the reunion, and Aizawa already knew it was going to be _shit_. He was forced to swap his work shift with someone, so he'd be working tomorrow instead of tonight, and although it was a mandatory event, it had a strict dress code. Shouta hadn't worn his suit in a long _long _time, and when he tried it on he was amazed it fit at all.

He eyed himself in his grimy mirror and felt the need to tie up his hair, since he was going to be around heroes all night. Both Kayama and Hizashi had seen him with his hair down whilst he was Eraserhe-

No, he was _not _going to accept that stupid name!

While he was in _villain mode_. It probably wouldn't make a difference, but tying it up was logical, just in case. He didn't know what to expect, even when he glanced over the itinerary. Iida was giving a speech for the Hero Course, Hizashi was giving the speech for the Support Course and although someone was giving a speech for General Studies too, Aizawa had never cared enough about his General classmates to learn their names.

He'd only been top of General until the Sport's Festival. After that, he'd merely kept his grades high enough to not be expelled.

Would Hizashi try to talk to him tonight? Why was he even thinking that question? He'd _definitely _try to talk to him, but what about? About the Sports Festival? Or would he talk about the cat and the photocopy room, when they'd…?

Aizawa hadn't talked when he'd rescued Yamada, so there was no way he could've recognised his voice, and…

He didn't want to think more about it. If Hizashi tried to talk to him tonight, he'd blow him off and ignore him.

Aizawa sighed as he pulled the unused razor from the cabinet and shaved away his stubble, one long streak at a time. Stupid dress codes…

He recalled the small moustache he'd seen on Hizashi's face and rolled his eyes, although the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. Such an idiot, how'd he ever reach the top of Support?

The trip to UA was long via train, and he ended up falling asleep with his head against some unconcerned businessman when he woke up. He got off at the correct stop and screwed up his face once he saw the gathered paparazzi around the gates of UA. Vultures always gathered to these sorts of events. Shouta Aizawa was a prime candidate for their microphones.

They peppered him with questions like_ 'Did you ever apologise to that kid?', 'Why did you keep attending UA after the incident?' _and the ever popular, _'How do you live with yourself after crushing that boy's dream?'_

He ignored them completely, but while he walked through, a voice caught his ears.

"Super _[Plus Ultra]_ successful, yo! I graduated top of my class, got a super-bomb job in the techie department, became a killer DJ for hire and even run my own radio show! 'Put Your Hands Up Radio'! Runs all night, Friday night, with non-stop tunes to bring up some moons!"

Aizawa turned to eye the swarm of reporters, who were lapping up every word the loudmouth said. Of course Hizashi would act like this, he'd _always _been a glutton for the media, even back when…

"Recently you were saved by the hero Eraserhead!" one reporter said eagerly. "Do you believe he's actually a villain?"

Aizawa stopped.

"A villain?" Hizashi asked with a snort. "I made it very clear on my last reports: _[He's my hero~!] _Whether he's a villain to everyone else, no skin off my nose, so long as he doesn't lay a finger on my buds, yo, or any poor civilians! Maybe he saved me 'cause he's a fan, _[Dear Listeners!]"_

The people laughed. Hizashi had always had a way with words, even if Aizawa couldn't comprehend the appeal (or at least wasn't willing to admit it).

Aizawa's eyes suddenly met a pair of vibrant green and his chest lurched. He'd locked eyes with Hizashi Yamada, and the blond was staring at him.

A microphone was pressed in front of Hizashi's face, and a reporter asked, "What about your relationship with Power Loader? Did you expect to find romance in your career?"

Confliction crossed the blond's face. Aizawa wanted to walk away, to turn and head inside, but something made it so he couldn't move. Those green eyes glanced between the reporter and the ex-best friend as he decided which was more important…

He turned to the reporters and grinned sheepishly. Aizawa didn't pay attention to what he said as whatever spell that'd gripped him relinquished its hold. Of course. His feet carried him away. The blond had chosen the vultures.

-x-

"Actually," Hizashi said sheepishly, "we recently broke up, but we're still on great working terms!" He winked at the camera and eagerly declared, "Well I'm single, yo, and ready to mingle! [_True love will find me~!]"_

The reporters laughed, but he felt conflicted. He knew he'd made the wrong decision, but he couldn't help it. When they held out their microphones, and looked at him with their sparkling eyes, and were so _interested _in everything he had to say, Hizashi couldn't resist their pull.

He hungered for attention, for validation: it drove every decision he'd ever made. And it'd just forced another one.

It's okay, he'd have time to talk to Shouta later.

After a tonne more questions, he was finally forced to go as the party began, and they weren't allowed inside. The twenty-two-year-old took his place at the table with the other Support Course students, his old classmates. They all clamoured to greet him, their eyes sparkling as they gushed about how great he looked, how amazing his tech was, that his show was amazing, how they all needed to catch up for coffee because it had been _too long._ The attention made his insides purr, although a small logical part of his mind scolded him for being such an attention whore.

Soon enough it was time for the speeches, and everything went quiet.

The principal hopped up first, an old man who'd already been pushing his limits when they'd first began schooling and who now seemed positively ancient, even without the glaze of youth over their eyes. He rambled on for a while, a dry copy-paste speech about how they'd been a bright year, even compared to other groups, and that it was a delight to see them now they were 'adults'. Some people were nodding off, and even Hizashi was tapping out a soft drum beat with his fingers as they waited.

His eyes glanced over to the General tables, and although he could see Shouta, the man didn't turn his eyes from the nearby wall. Hizashi hated himself for choosing the paparazzi now, especially considering how _good _he looked.

His black hair was unbrushed, but tied out of his face, and his chin was cleanly shaven. His suit was a little small for him, but that only served to emphasise the taut muscles beneath the fabric, and the only thing that kept him from peeling out of that chair and rushing over to him was mere social etiquette.

Could he really be a villain too?

The principal's address ended, although they were requested not to leave their seated areas while some of their old teachers stood up and talked about how amazed they were by their achievements, and mentioned some of their favourite moments. Stories about Hizashi and Nemuri and Tensei were frequent and always earnt the most laughter. There were no stories about Shouta Aizawa, although Hizashi could've told a few, like the time he and Shouta had found that kitten and…

Well, Hizashi had been the one to adopt the feline, but only because Aizawa hadn't been allowed. And then, despite everything, they'd…

Or maybe he'd remind them of one they all knew, one that they'd all undoubtedly forgotten in their horror. At the Sports Festival, their teamwork in the Obstacle Race… How, near the end, Shouta had _almost_ come first, but had sacrificed that position to help Hizashi, who'd been struggling from blood loss. They'd crossed the finishing line _together._

Then there'd been the days leading up to the Sports Festival, where they'd sparred, but had promised not to use their Quirks, to save some surprises for the actual fight. Aizawa had always been better than him in one-on-one fights, but Hizashi had always been the better strategist. Typically, the General Studies kid had won, but the blond had always put up a decent fight, and when they'd fought against Tensei and Nemuri i match, they'd usually won.

No, if he could tell any story about Shouta Aizawa, it would be the story of how they'd met on that first day, beneath the last sakura tree, where they'd made their promise…

The promise that had never come true.

Their promise to become-

"Next up, I'd like to introduce our top Hero Course graduate, Tensei Iida, to say some words about his life beyond school."

Tensei stood up and rallied the groups by leading them through the school anthem and the school motto, before he began to spiel about how proud he was of everyone. He told stories about his class of heroes from before and after graduation, about how Nemuri had been recently promoted from a sidekick to a pro-hero, about how they'd both recently had a run in with two new _villains_ (he didn't make his opinion innocuous at all) and he made some light joke about how Hizashi, the last member of their friendship trio, would need to take care of himself since, although he'd been saved by one, he had yet to have his brush with the other.

He and Nemuri laughed extra hard at that one, and when he looked at Shouta their eyes unexpectedly met. The raven-haired man didn't need to use his Quirk to render him silent. Hizashi swallowed and waved at him, but Aizawa looked away. Soon the speech finished, and it was time for Hizashi, the top of the Support Course, to give his own speech.

The crowd bubbled as he made his way to the podium, excited for this, and when he reached the stand he paused.

"We are gathered here today," he began, voice even and sombre, "to celebrate our days of schooling." Everyone was caught off-guard by the serious tone, but he was quick to throw the switch. "And that means we're [_here to party!]" _He cheered and (almost) everyone followed shortly after. Hizashi grabbed the stand and grinned from ear to ear. _"[Yo, yo, yo,]"_ he rapped in English, _"[you're back at school after all these years, all these friends and no more tears. You're fighting monsters, you're building tech, you're stopping villains, so what the heck? Party time!]_" People cheered again and he laughed, loudly, but made sure he didn't use his Quirk. "It's so good to see everyone again, yo! Now, I know what you're all thinking – how did you all get the chance to go to the same school as someone as amazing, and talented, and _[plus ultra] _as me~!" They laughed as he grinned and aimed his thumbs at his face. "These years have been _[crazy wild] _for all of us, yo! Our little Midnight and Ingenium are now loose on the streets without supervision, and – if you're lucky – you might be decked out in my fabulous support gear! _[Super cool!]_"

The crowd were laughing and smiling at his arrogant demeanour, but Aizawa was still staring at the wall, face as unreadable as Eraserhead's mask. Hizashi inhaled through his teeth.

"You might remember, _[boys and girls], _that I wanted to be a hero too." _That _caught Shouta's attention, although he still didn't look at him. "Wouldn't that be scary? _[Ooo, so scary!]" _The crowd laughed again, although there was a subdued feel to it. Everyone knew about **that day**. "But if I had, then we wouldn't've heard Tensei's awesome speech, since of course _I _would've been top of the Hero Course!" The atmosphere relaxed again. "Now, I have a tonne of stories! I'm a techie, for starters! _[So super plus ultra!] _I'm also a DJ and the host for 'Put Your Hands Up Radio'! _[I am so Mister Popular, crazy~!]"_

Always plug the show: he'd learnt that early on in his dabble with the media, and this audience was just a mass of living cameras.

He regaled the group with stories, focusing predominantly on the Support Department. He didn't mention Shouta Aizawa at all, knowing if he mentioned the man, everyone would remember back to **that day **and it would bum the mood again. Hizashi couldn't disappoint his audience like that.

The people were rolling in the aisles by the end, thanks to his expert delivery, and their individual identities became less and less important as their smiles grew wider and wider. Only one was unimpressed, and although he didn't like that one bit, he pretended it didn't bother him. Soon enough, he was sent back to his seat so the General Course head could give her own speech, although he was a tough act to follow – a fact he felt utter delight in.

She was nice enough and told small, polite stories about her fellow classmates. Not wanting to leave anyone out, she even briefly mentioned Shouta Aizawa and how he'd surprised everyone during their second year by coming into the classroom late, soaking wet – the class had thought he was that ghost girl from _The Ring _and had screamed in collective terror.

Hizashi's chest fluttered as he remembered that day, but the polite laughter was subdued, and a few people glanced at the blond as she mentioned it, as if ensuring he were okay. He just grinned to defuse their misplaced concern.

No one even knew Hizashi had been involved in that day, so why did they look at him?

Hizashi glanced at Aizawa, only to lock eyes again. The dark-haired man looked away, mumbled something to the person beside him and stood up, disappearing out one of the doors. Mic turned to the person next to him and quickly made some excuse about going to the bathroom so he could follow that figure into the unknown.

-o-

Shouta splashed water over his face and took to leaning against the sink. He should've pretended to be sick. No one would've missed him anyway. So what if it were mandatory? What would they do - arrest him?

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, but his mind was set on Hizashi Yamada, and Aizawa genuinely felt sick. The blond had always loved attention, but what he'd just seen was utterly revolting. That need for validation, those hungry eyes that had scoured every inch of the room, that had soaked in the bliss of everyone other than him. Aizawa hadn't needed to look: he'd heard it in his voice.

If he'd known just how far the blond had fallen already into such idiotic vices, he would've never saved him from that fall. The Hizashi he'd known was gone, and all that remained was a puppet who'd jump as high as his audience wished, no matter the detriment or the sacrifice. He'd become the sort of person Aizawa hated most, yet-

The door opened, but he didn't look up.

"Yo," that voice said, an air of uncertainty pervading the sound. "It's been a long time, Shouta."

The villain swallowed, his fingers turning white as he gripped the sink even harder. He couldn't force himself to face that man, didn't know how he'd react to seeing those green eyes and that blond hair and those perfect teeth so close again after all this time. Instead, he shook his head and fixed his gaze on the faucet.

"You sick?" Hizashi persisted. "I have a tonne of medicine if you need something. Headache? Indigestion? Too much alcohol? Do you know what caused it?"

"You, Yamada," he said instantly, voice sounding croaky but not foreign in his mouth. "Hearing you talk makes me _sick_."


	7. By Me Wounded

Chapter Seven

**By Me Wounded**

**_"I'll tell thee ere thou ask it me again:  
I have been feasting with mine enemy,  
Where on a sudden one hath wounded me  
That's by me wounded; both our remedies  
within thy help and holy physic lies.  
I bear no hatred, blessed man; for lo,  
My intercession likewise steads my foe."_**_  
\- (Romeo, Act 2, Scene 3)_

"You, Yamada," he said instantly, voice sounding croaky but not foreign in his mouth. "Hearing you talk makes me sick."

The blond had made his choice earlier, and he'd chosen the vultures. This man was not worth any closure. Even so, something felt wrong about his ruthless words: _everything _felt _wrong_. Some small part of him pleaded to take them back, but he didn't surrender to that voice, just as he hadn't eight years ago.

Hizashi murmured something beneath his breath, too quiet for him to hear, and then more loudly added, "Let's get a drink, after the reunion. I wanna talk."

He inhaled deeply and turned to face him. The man was further than he'd expected him to be, yet the added distance did little to stop the feeling in his chest as their eyes met. Despite that, the sight of Hizashi looking so good and together filled him with…

What was it? Envy? Jealousy? Betrayal?

Why was this man so together, so successful, while Aizawa's life was-

Aizawa barged past him towards the exit, their shoulders briefly connecting. "Your audience is waiting."

"Sho, please… Come over and see Heater. She's doing well, so…"

The mention of the cat wasn't enough to stop Shouta from leaving him with the worst words he could think of, the same ones he'd uttered all those years ago to ensure Yamada's loathing.

"You should've been stronger."

The blond didn't follow, and while that should've brought relief, he only felt bitter disappointment and sharp guilt.

-o-

Hizashi tried to follow, he really did, but his legs wouldn't move when he willed them to. Instead, the villain was forced to lean against the wall as his mind flashed back to then.

On that day, despite the bruises, and the bandages, and the agony, and the horror, he'd smiled.

It had almost _killed_ him – **_he_****_ had almost _****_killed_****_ him _****-** but he'd _smiled _for _Shouta._

He'd pretended he was okay when he knew he wasn't, like All-Might would've, knowing that the boy was undoubtedly hurting just as much as he was. Right, even though Hizashi was the one covered in bruises and bandages, with broken bones, who'd almost _died_, Aizawa was in agony too, right?

_You should've been stronger._

Fuck, those words… _Those words _had broken him more than anything else. More than the asphyxia, more than the kicks and punches and crushing, more than what everyone else had said about his 'weak constitution' and his 'well-being'.

_You should've been stronger._

Fuck.

Numbness ran through him as he pushed everything down, but it was different this time. This time he'd heard _that voice._

"_Thanks for the drink,_" he said to himself in the voice of Eraserhead. _"Hearing you talk makes me sick," _he added in the voice of Shouta Aizawa.

It was him.

Just like Hizashi, the Erasure student had turned to a life of villainy…

He pulled out his phone and keyed in a number he knew off by heart. Hizashi pressed it to his ear and the line was quickly answered, although nothing was said.

"'_These violent delights have violent ends'_," Hizashi whispered into the receiver, his voice shifted to sound like an old radio host.

"Mic," answered his favourite information broker, "what d'ya need?"

"Find out if SYN recruited someone with an Erasure Quirk."

Giran clicked his tongue into the receiver in clear surprise. "SYN's over, kiddo. Does it matter?" Hizashi waited. It was a rhetorical question, of course: the blond wouldn't have asked if it didn't matter. The broker sighed heavily and murmured, "Gimmie five minutes."

The phone went dead and Hizashi stared up at the ceiling, his chest twisting this way and that. He'd protected Shouta from them, hadn't he? How could he possibly be a villain?

His phone rang after only three minutes, but when Hizashi answered he didn't say a word until Giran's voice said back, "'_Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast.'_"

"What's the news?"

"No Erasure Quirks _successfully_ recruited. One _was_ approached… But you know that already, Mic. The file's got your signature: y_ou _wrote it. Pretty solid stuff too, especially for your early days. Guess you had the best teacher around! So what, didn't succeed in recruiting him before SYN fell?"

"I want everything you can find on him."

"M'kay," he said, not having to warn the man about his rates. Hizashi could always pay in the end, no matter what it was. It'd been a long time since the information trader had accepted money as payment from him, but the Hero HQ techie was a wellspring of secret data. "I'll give you everything when it's ready."

"_[Thank you.]" _Hizashi hung up and rubbed the back of his neck. He needed a cigarette, but the entire school was a smoke-free zone, and it wouldn't be good for his public image. He breathed in a few times, each breath taken deeper and deeper into his lungs, and he practised his rock star grin in the mirror, but his hands were shaking.

_You, Yamada: Hearing you talk makes me sick._

Despite those cruel words, his chest thumped as he recalled how handsome Shouta had been, how warm he'd felt as he'd forcefully shoved past him. Whenever they touched he felt that spark, as he _always _had, since the day they'd first met.

He'd tried to fall for Power Loader. He'd once sat at his desk and had listed every nice thing about him, everything that he'd found attractive and appealing. Everything that made him a good human being and a great lover. It'd been a long list, but… No matter how cruel Aizawa was, no matter how idiotic he made him feel, or how upset, this feeling wouldn't disappear.

After he'd written that list, the only thing that'd been on his mind was a young boy, standing in the rain, trying to warm a stray kitten beneath his coat. Of a warm room and a brief kiss that had never been equalled or repeated or spoken of again.

After eight years, Hizashi Yamada was still madly in love with someone who _hated _him.

-x-

Aizawa tried to leave the reunion early, but the people at the door told him it was a mandatory event and that it'd be best if he didn't leave early with all the reporters still buzzing about outside. Anyone who left early and alone was bound to be swarmed. If he had any health issues, they could send him to see the school's on-campus doctor, Recovery Girl, but he told them it wasn't necessary as he unhappily returned to the main room for the end of the Business Course's speech, and for the awards.

The Hero and Support course graduates won most of them, and Aizawa didn't need to be a fortune teller to know it was going to be predictable. Iida Tensei won most, but some were for silly things such as the cutest couple, the strangest Quirk, and the shortest tenure as a sidekick before swapping careers. However, because of this, Aizawa _did _win an award: most time spent sleeping in class.

Without any way to say no, he awkwardly walked onto the stage to accept it from the principal, and there was a hesitant round of applause. From the new vantage point, Aizawa glanced over the sea of faces that were only vaguely familiar. He could see Kayama from here, her seat positioned right beside Iida's on the Hero table, and that Blood Quirk user was there too. Shouta could also see Hizashi with the Support graduates, although something seemed _different _about the blond's demeanour from before.

His expression was pensive, and he wasn't looking at the stage. Right now, Shouta was the only one paying any attention to the celebrity, and he felt another thick stab of guilt when he saw how troubled he was. Had his words had such an impact? Of course, he'd _wanted _them to hurt!

"Got some words for us, Aizawa?" asked the principal, his voice unsure. He'd had many talks with him during his time at school, discussions about his apathetic attitude towards class and about why his grades had slipped so unexpectedly. _It doesn't matter if you can't enter the Hero track, Aizawa; you should still do your best._

He'd recommended counselling to Shouta's mother, but she hadn't bothered. Of course they'd had the money for it, but she'd never been interested in her only son. Besides, he'd only caused her trouble. As soon as he'd turned eighteen, she'd disowned him, and it had honestly meant_ nothing_ to him.

Shouta eyed the microphone and his stomach clenched. _Everyone _was staring at him. His palms felt sweaty as he remembered back to the last time _everyone _had been staring at him. Their screams of execration still haunted his dreams, and in that moment he couldn't even move. His eyes were set on Hizashi. Words from a lifetime ago came flooding back without warning.

_Just look at me, Sho. Pretend no one else is around._

The blond must've noticed the silence, for those green orbs finally beheld him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise. It didn't work. He couldn't pretend it was just he and Hizashi, couldn't even pretend they were on good terms or-

Hizashi shielded his mouth, never once looking away from Shouta.

_If that doesn't work, cover your mouth and trust me._

He'd forgotten all about that time, when they'd struggled together across the finish line, but now it was all he could think of.

_Thanks for coming back._

Aizawa lifted his hand, covered his mouth, and leaned close to the microphone.

_"Thank you," _said his voice, although nothing had emerged from his mouth. Hizashi had mimicked him, increased the volume and thrown it to the podium, fooling everyone else in the room. _"Next time I'll go for the record."_

There was a quiet drone of surprised laughter through the crowd and the tension melted away with applause as the next award was called. Hizashi looked away before Aizawa left the stage with the crummy certificate, his head and chest a mess.

_Thanks for coming back._

_Anytime._

-x-

The night had moved onto the next (and thankfully final) section. Everyone stood in the vast ballroom while servers brought around trays of wine, champagne and canapés, and music played in the background. A certain someone must've had a hand in the playlist, for many of the songs were in English, playing just loud enough to hear, yet quiet enough to talk over.

**_[You've been runnin' round, runnin' round, runnin' round throwin' that dirt all on my name, cause you knew that I, knew that I, knew that I'd call you up.]_**

Aizawa stood near the wall, alone, while everyone else was milling about and chatting in small groups. He was determined to wait there quietly until the reporters left so he could leave in peace, but of course that wasn't an option…

"It's been a long time, Aizawa."

**_[You've been going round, going round, going round every party in L.A., cause you knew that I, knew that I, knew that I'd be at one.]_**

Someone leaned against the wall beside him, but Aizawa didn't need to look to know who it was. There were only three people in the entire year group who he'd once considered friends, even if their time had only been brief, and only one had been a girl.

**_[I know that dress is karma, perfume regret, you got me thinking 'bout when you were mine.]_**

Despite that, he still looked at her. Her dark hair was tied up neatly and she wore a fine dress that accentuated her figure, although it showed far less skin than her hero costume. He'd nearly killed her only a few nights earlier, yet Nemuri Kayama was none the wiser. He grunted and sipped his wine, wondering how much he'd need to get drunk.

**_[And now I'm all up on ya, what you expect? But you're not coming home with me tonight.]_**

"How've you been?" she asked, and to her credit there was some sincerity in her words. Kayama wasn't the type to make unnecessary small talk unless she were genuinely interested.

"Fine," he answered, and it wasn't exactly a dishonest answer. His mind was still replaying the award ceremony, still wondering why Hizashi had helped him despite his cruel words shortly before. Aizawa's eyes scanned the room for him, and soon they landed on shortish blond hair.

**_[You just want attention, you don't want my heart. Maybe you just hate the thought of me with someone new.]_**

Hizashi was talking to a few people from the Hero Course, but there was guy in the group he was standing especially close to. He kept laughing at everything the stranger said, kept smiling and batting his eyes, and Shouta noticed the hand Hizashi placed on his arm. Something twisted in his stomach at the sight, something he'd felt throughout school as the popular blond had flippantly leapt from relationship to relationship, but Aizawa couldn't bring himself to face what it was.

**_[You just want attention, I knew from the start, you're just making sure I'm never gettin' over you.]_**

"He's fine too," Kayama said as she followed his line of sight. "Just broke up with his boyfriend, but I doubt he'll stay single for long. Don't know where he finds the time with everything else he gets up to, but he miraculously does…"

"Why're you telling me this?"

**_[You've been runnin' round, runnin' round, runnin' round throwing that dirt all on my name, cause you knew that I, knew that I, knew that I'd call you up.]_**

"He's gonna sleep with _someone _tonight. If you go over there and talk to him, that someone might be you."

He shot her a look. "Why would I-"

"Cut the crap, Aizawa. I'm not as smart as Zaza and Ten, but I'm not stupid, especially when it comes to matters of the heart – and other areas where blood rushes to." She inhaled deeply and shuddered when she finally exhaled. "I know why you turned into Mr. Mega Dickbag after the Sports Fest. I don't approve, but I know why. It was stupid, and immature, but maybe you can – no, _should_ -make up for it now."

Maybe he _should _still kill her.

**_[Baby, now that we're, now that we're, now that we're right here standing face-to-face, you already know, already know, already know that you won.]_**

"Don't know what you're talking about."

He watched as Hizashi pressed his shoulder against the man's and leaned up to whisper something in his ear, his grin devilish. It felt like a knife in his gut, but he scolded himself internally for feeling this way. He had no right to feel _anything_ like this.

**_[I know that dress is karma, perfume regret, you got me thinking 'bout when you were mine. And now I'm all up on ya, what you expect? But you're not coming home with me tonight.]_**

Kayama sighed, sounding like a disappointed mother, and said, "You heading home?" He nodded, and she nodded back. "Fine, it's your choice I suppose. I'll distract the reporters so you can get out without them bothering you."

He watched as the man placed a hand on Hizashi's lower back, his fingers rubbing the material in small circles as he held him closer. Then Hizashi's head slightly turned, and Aizawa caught a flash of green, despite the distance. The blond was aware of Shouta's staring.

**_[You just want attention, you don't want my heart, maybe you just hate the thought of me with someone new.]_**

As if to spite him, Hizashi leaned up and whispered something else in the man's ear, something that made a scarlet blush flare across the stranger's cheeks. He looked at the blond and nodded far too eagerly.

**_[Yeah, you just want attention, I knew from the start, you're just making sure I'm never getting' over you.]_**

Aizawa wasn't the only one who noticed as Kayama sighed heavily beside him. "He's pissed. What'd you two even do when you both ducked out earlier?"

Even pissed, Hizashi had still been willing to save him from his stage fright, and that somehow made him feel worse. He didn't say anything as he turned his back on Hizashi, who was still whispering sweet nothings in the enemy's ear. He certainly didn't turn down Nemuri's offer to distract the vultures.

Okay, maybe he could let her live after all.

Aizawa left the reunion, before the song ended, with zero closure.

He should've pretended he was sick.

* * *

Song: Attention by Charlie Puth

Reviews appreciated!


	8. Transparent Heretics

Chapter Eight

**Transparent Heretics**

**_"When the devout religion of mine eye  
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire;  
and these who, often drown'd, could never die,  
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars.  
One fairer than my love! The all-seeing sun  
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun."_**_  
(Romeo – Act 1, Scene 2)_

Although his eyes were closed, Hizashi Yamada was wide awake. His bedroom smelt of sweat and sex, but he was waiting for the man beside him to fall asleep so he could set to work. Judging by the sound of deep breathing, his wait was over. The blond's eyes opened, only to be greeted by the sight of his dark room. Hizashi carefully slipped his form from the sheets, his movements quiet enough to not disturb the other man, even when he paced to the other side of the bed.

Hizashi's eyes wandered over the face of the sleeping pawn. He was handsome enough, and could be useful in the future. The sex had been alright, if too gentle for his current mood, but he wasn't one to complain over something so trivial as a one-night stand, especially with someone who'd been chosen so carefully.

He was a graduate of the Hero course, but the man hadn't become a hero: he'd become a policeman. The man's phone sat on the bedside table, right beside the villain's, just as he'd planned out as they'd undressed.

Hizashi picked up the policeman's phone instead of his own and pulled on his dressing gown, tying the cord half-heartedly as he left the room, passing by Nemuri's bedroom in the process. The apartment was huge, even for the two of them, although Yamada was the official owner. She'd only recently started raking in pro-hero cash, while he'd been earning a great wage since…

For a while.

The place was always kept warm, so even in the thin nightgown he was safe from the chill as he made his way towards his private workroom. A soft sound interrupted his quest and we waited as his black cat came rushing over to him, the feline stumbling slightly from drowsiness. Hizashi smiled as he stooped and picked her up, carrying Heater with him and shutting the door firmly behind them. She purred happily in his arms, and he let her sit in his lap as he sat at his computer and set to work.

One facial scan and three different passwords later, and he was in.

The policeman's phone was plugged into his system and, just like that, its entire contents belonged to him. His first order of business was to place a bug on the phone, one that would access the GPS and messenger systems, while being especially difficult to detect. Even if he were interrupted, by doing this part first he would still have access to some information, if not to the extent he currently needed. It wasn't the first bug he'd placed, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Next he needed to access the staff portal, a task made worlds easier by instigating the handshake protocol through the officer's phone. The idiot had even saved his password to the device: a rookie mistake. He was in quicker than expected, and a world of classified files was at his mercy.

Hizashi's fingers flew across the keyboard as he hurriedly typed in what he was searching for, and soon enough he'd found it:

**Present Mic.**

He opened the file and glanced over the documents, one hand drifting down to scratch his cat behind her ears as she affectionately knocked her face against his chest. "Let's see how far they've got… _[Close, but no cigar.]"_

In the document was every Vocal Quirk user currently listed in the city. Of course this was the initial procedure for discovering a villain's true identity: work out the suspects. His name _was _on this extensive list, although the police had yet to reach it. Beside each file was either a tick for a potential suspect, a cross for an unlikely suspect, and a blank square for those who had yet to be cross marked. Hizashi was the latter.

The blond rolled his eyes at how simple the task was as he went into his own file and changed it to a cross, with the additional comment of: _Alibi checks out. _He included the phone number of one of his burner phones, in case they did a follow up, and he put crosses beside six other random files, just in case. If they ever discovered the change, they'd believe it was a simple system error, as opposed to outside intervention.

God this was too easy…

He sat staring at the screen, knowing he should finish up before the man woke up, but a lot was on his mind. Hizashi typed up the full name of SYN, but although a file did emerge, it hadn't been edited in several years. Hizashi tapped a finger against his desk while he continued to stroke the cat with the other, before he relinquished with a heavy sigh and searched up Eraserhead.

All Erasure Quirk users were on file too, but they'd gone through even less names than they had for Present Mic. Aizawa was on there, of course, but the box beside his file was still empty. Hizashi shook his head as he edited the file with a cross and added in a comment about the alibi checking out and input a different phone number as 'proof'. Several other files were also changed to crosses, and he logged out with a heavy sigh.

"You owe me, Sho…"

_You should've been stronger._

It hadn't been satisfying at all to see Aizawa silently struggling on the stage while everyone had gawked at him. Even after what he'd said in the bathroom, that look he'd given Hizashi had been so distraught, so helpless, that it had sparked the blond's old raison d'etre: he had to protect Shouta.

He shook his head to clear it and turned off his computer, before he stood and made his way back to the living room. The sleepy Heater was placed on her cushion, and he fetched a glass of water as he returned to the room, only to find his one-night stand awake and glancing around.

"Yo," Hizashi said softly, "everything okay?"

The man focused on him, eyes slipping to the glass of water as some questions were instantly answered. "Seen my phone?"

"Yeah," he said as he pulled it from his pocket with a sheepish smile, "sorry, I grabbed it by mistake. Blind as a bat without my glasses."

"Thought you and Aizawa were enemies." The man took the phone, but didn't even check it over. Zero suspicions. "Sorry, I saw your lock screen. Thought it was mine."

Hizashi laughed gently as he picked up his own phone and slipped it into his pocket. "It's a long story… Sho and I were besties, before the Festival. He cut me off afterwards."

"_He _cut _you _off?" The officer looked surprised. "He almost _killed you_, and yet you weren't the one who cut _him_ off?"

Hizashi shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. "He won the fight, fair and square. His Quirk was just … better than mine, and there's nothing wrong with that."

The man looked uncomfortable. "I dunno, Yamada… I _saw _it with my own two eyes. You were trying to surrender and he _broke your hand. _You were _dying_, and he was still kicking you across the arena like a doll. If the teacher hadn't intervened…"

_Fight me! You promised! We promised! Fight me!_

Hizashi laughed. It was fake, of course, but nowadays even he struggled to tell the difference. "It's in the past."

The officer sighed. "You were all doing so well too… You were _amazing_ in the obstacle course and the cavalry games." He smiled, "I did horribly in the first round, but what you did to get over the minefield was crazy! Kan was in my class, and yet I couldn't even _imagine_ approaching him!"

Hizashi laughed too, more genuinely. "Yeah, he was scary! He became a good friend of mine after that, even though we were in different courses. He asked me on a date once, but I turned him down…" The atmosphere shifted and he scratched the back of his neck. "Don't know why… I dated everybody else." He couldn't even remember how many boyfriends he'd had during his three years at UA. He'd even had a few girlfriends, before he'd found out he was gay.

Whatever the case and whatever the gender, his relationships had never lasted long.

"Before you fought Kayama," the man continued, "you gave that speech… Was it true what you said?" Hizashi glanced at him. The guy was a bigger fanboy than he'd thought. "You said…"

_I don't wanna be a techie, and I don't wanna build support gear either!_

"I remember," he murmured, feeling instantly sick. "_[Sorry], _I've gotta get up early tomorrow. You gonna be okay to get home at this hour? I can pay for a taxi."

The man stood up and searched around for his clothes. "It's okay, I don't think the train station's far."

"Down the street, two right turns." The officer got dressed, but although he had a nice body, Hizashi no longer felt like looking as he set his glass down. While he certainly didn't feel guilty about using the guy for his police data, he didn't exactly enjoy it either. "You were pretty good," he said honestly. Pretty good was usually enough, but Aizawa had put him in a mood where even 'pretty good' couldn't successfully satisfy him. "We should do this again sometime, sweetie."

The man smiled. He was nice, and that made everything worse. "You're a really interesting person, Yamada. You're really different without a crowd. Maybe next time we could go on a date."

The officer knew the right sort of compliment to give the egomaniac. Hizashi grinned. "Sounds perfect." He guided the man out of his house and even gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he exited the front door, but as soon as he was alone, Hizashi's façade fell.

_This box is you, 'kay? Right now, when you're with us, the lid is open. You can talk about anything … When you're 'round everyone else though, it's as easy as closing the lid. Snap it shut, and everything they don't need to see stays hidden inside. You won't slip up, so long as that lid is closed._

His hands cupped his face and worked the flesh with his fingers. Despite the time, he was in dire need of a shower, if only to wash the smell of empty sex from his skin. His bathroom was joined to his bedroom, but he took some time to look himself over in the mirror while he stood there.

There were some small marks on his neck, but they would surely be gone by morning. That would be a shame: he loved sporting possessive marks on his skin, ones that would let everyone know the next day just how thoroughly he'd been fucked. It was probably why he'd been with Power Loader for so long: he hadn't been rough in bed, but he'd always gone hard, and Hizashi had loved it.

He wondered vaguely how Aizawa fucked, and he paused to pull out his phone. As he turned it on, he came face to face with the photo that had successfully ended his three-year relationship with the pro-hero. It was from his first day at UA. Pink petals filled the frame – it'd been taken beneath the last blooming cherry blossom tree on campus. His young, fifteen-year-old self was smiling, the grin so huge and goofy and innocent and _genuine_ that it made him feel warm whenever he saw it, but the part of the photo that always drew his attention was…

His arm was slung around the shoulder of Shouta Aizawa. He'd pulled him close for the picture, and the boy's face was displeased, but even after the photo had been taken, he hadn't made him delete it. It had been his phone background for eight years straight.

"No wonder Higari broke up with you over this," he murmured to himself. "Hope you're happy, Zashi. You lost a great dick cause you can't get over some guy who acted like a dick…" He unlocked the phone and went into the images, planning to delete the photo once and for all, but he hesitated when his finger hovered over the trash button.

_It's a promise, Sho. Let's take a photo to commemorate it!_

Hizashi exhaled and his finger retreated as he put the phone down and turned on the shower.

_You, Yamada. Hearing you talk makes me sick._

"Yeah, well, you're the only one who thinks that, babe. People dig my voice." He shivered as he thought about the adult Aizawa, with his suit so tight that his muscles were obvious beneath the cotton, with those eyes that had looked at him so achingly, even from across the room.

He'd noticed it, of course, the way Shouta had watched him like a hawk as he'd flirted with the officer. Every fibre of his body had wanted the man pull himself from the wall, to march over to him and drag him someplace secluded for…

Hizashi slipped off his robe and stepped into the shower, the water already perfect.

"I bet you'd like my voice if I were moaning your name," he said quietly as his imagination (and hands) wandered. He was in the shower for a long time.

-x-

Aizawa stood in the alleyway near his apartment, surrounded by several stray cats as he opened tins of food for them. Taking care of the felines helped steady his nerves, although he still couldn't get the sight of Hizashi flirting with that other man from his head. Why did it bother him so much? They'd never even dated! Shouta wasn't in love with him, or anything like that, so why did it make him feel like a jilted lover? They'd only kissed once, a long time ago, and that had been a mistake.

_He's gonna sleep with someone tonight. If you go over there and talk to him, that someone might be you._

What would've happened if Aizawa had gone over and interrupted, if he'd stood close to Hizashi too? Would the blond have taken his arm instead? Would he have whispered sweet nothings in his ear? Would it have all led to something more…?

No. Aizawa was an underground villain, and he couldn't pull Hizashi into that life, especially considering what the blond had done to him. Yamada was trouble.

Even so, he remembered back to the day they'd first met, beneath the last blooming cherry blossom tree, on the first day of school…

Shouta had been lost on his way to the Entrance Ceremony, but he hadn't stressed over it. No one would miss him anyway, since he was just a _General_ student. He hadn't even bothered with the Hero exam, already knowing beforehand he'd be unable to take down the robots with his Erasure Quirk. There was a chance he could transfer, of course, but the chance was slim at best, and he doubted he could do it, but… Well, he was there anyway, so it was worth a shot.

He'd been training every day, to the point where his hands were covered in thick bandages.

It was such a nice day though, too nice to be stuck inside learning the names of people he'd immediately forget, so he gave up trying to find the Entrance Ceremony and snoozed beneath a cherry tree instead, until something pressed against him.

He woke up, slightly dazed, to find a student curled on the grass with their back pressed against his leg. They wore the same uniform as him, but their hair was short and blond, and a pair of round glasses covered most of their face. Their upper lip quivered, and their eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

Shouta scrunched up his nose and moved his leg away, only to have the boy shuffle back until they were touching again. "You're too close," grumbled the sleepy fifteen-year-old, but he didn't try to move his leg a second time.

The other boy sniffled, "Can I stay with you?" His voice was louder than necessary. In fact, it hurt his ears when he talked.

"Why?"

The blond looked at him, and Shouta was caught off-guard by just how green his eyes were, even with the glasses covering them. "I got lost, and the Entrance Ceremony would've started by now, but we'll be in less trouble if there're two of us to tell off! You're a first year too, right?" The General student grunted and decided the excuse was logical enough, even if it didn't give him a reason to touch him. "I'm Yamada, by the way, but you can call me Hizashi!"

God he was loud. He'd never called anyone by their first name before and he wasn't about to start now. "Aizawa," he murmured sleepily.

"You in the Hero Course?"

That caught him by surprise. He tilted his head, his black fringe falling into his eyes as he answered, "General."

"Really?" The boy sat up at last, but just when the touch against his leg disappeared, he joined him beside the tree with their shoulders pressed together instead. "Coulda fooled me! I'm in Support!" Yamada grinned from ear to ear, "Got top of the Support exam! They say I'm a genius!"

"You're loud."

Yamada was taken aback, but only briefly, and afterwards he laughed. "Wow! You're good! I actually have a vocal Quirk called Voice! My mother had a Quirk called Volume, while my dad had one called Mimic, so mine is a combination of both, although I can do things even they can't, like _this!" _Even though the boy was on his right, the last word sounded from his left. "Isn't it cool? Oh, say something funny!"

"No."

_"No," _the kid repeated back, mimicking the sound of his own voice. That grin remained. "Aren't I amazing? Everyone always tells me how amazing I am, and of course I am, so-"

His ears were painfully ringing. "You're_ too_ loud."

Again, the blond was taken aback, and his smile finally disappeared. Then his face grew completely red as he pulled two small devices from his ears: hearing-aids. Yamada fiddled with them (and a handkerchief) while making odd concentrated sounds with his mouth, before he shoved them back in and smiled again. When he next spoke, his voice was far softer and almost… soothing. "Sorry, I really need new ones. If you want, we can find the Entrance Ceremony together. It might not be so awkward if two of us walk in, and we can just lie and say our bus was late."

"I'd rather stay here."

"Don't wanna meet your classmates?" Shouta shook his head, but didn't say anything. The blond frowned and looked at him, and for just a moment Aizawa noticed a glimmer of keen intelligence in those eyes. As stupid as he seemed, to score the highest in the Support exam… This kid was _smart, _and he knew it. "You don't wanna be in General, do you?" Why did he pose everything as a question? Shouta shook his head. Those eyes studied him over again, before he looked away completely. "To be honest, I don't wanna be in Support." It was Shouta's turn to stare at him. He'd scored top in the exam: it sounded like he was in the perfect course. "Don't get me wrong, I love tech, and I'm a total nerd, but…" The blond turned back to him and offered him his pinkie. "I've never told anyone this, so you gotta promise not to tell, okay? Pinkie-swear!"

Shouta stared at him as if he were crazy, but the look of utter seriousness and determination on the other kid's face made him pause. Cherry blossoms fell behind him, and some had been snared between strands of golden blond hair, while the sun danced across his face like an elegant ballerina. Shouta lifted his hand and their pinkies entwined, while something pleasant and innocent budded in his chest.

Hizashi Yamada grinned and those emerald eyes were ablaze with life. "I wanna be a hero!"


	9. Loathsome World

Chapter Nine

**Loathsome World**

**_"There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,  
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,  
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.  
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none."  
_**_\- Romeo (Act 5, Scene 2)_

Hizashi stepped out of the shower, feeling far more satisfied than he had earlier. He grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and started by running it through his short hair, habitually checking the length of it against his neck. It was growing longer, but it grew so slowly that it probably wouldn't reach past his shoulders until he was thirty, or something old like that.

His eyes caught sight of red and he grinned as he turned his body to better view the tattoo on his lower back. It was something small and simple, a black speaker with a red circular border and a red line cutting through it: his 'mute' button, as he called it. Now _that _had been a fun night, even though he could barely remember it through the haze of alcohol that had spurned the sudden decision.

He wanted more tattoos, but when he was such a public figure, he had a certain aesthetic to maintain (and they were a bit of a giveaway when he was in disguise). At least this one was small and in a place people didn't typically see. Worse came to worse, he had some pretty killer foundation that would hide it with a few drops.

What really made him buzz, however, were the bruises that marked the skin around the ink, far darker than any on his neck. He tended to get loud during sex, sometimes without realising it, so he told his partners to pinch him there if he got too unbearable. The area bruised so easily…

He pulled out his hairdryer and set to work, while he mindlessly checked over his phone to update his social media with messages like **'HAD SUCH A B-L-A-S-T AT THE REUNION!'**, or **'GUESS WHO WON THE MOST AWARDS! NOT ME, BUT IT SHOULD'VE BEEN!'**, followed by an army of winking emojis. He turned it off once he was done, the happy cartoon faces replaced by the sombre reflection of his own.

Shouta was Eraserhead. How was something so ludicrous even possible?

He flicked his phone back on and stared at the photo of them together on their first day, even as he let himself remember back to that perfect start.

He'd been running late to the Entrance Ceremony due to traffic, but he hadn't worried since he knew precisely where to go. However, as he raced through the gardens he'd already memorised from the provided map, Hizashi was distracted by the sight of a boy sleeping beneath a late-flowering sakura tree.

A few petals had gathered in his raven hair, and he looked so peaceful as he slept. The sleeping boy's uniform fit perfectly, while Hizashi's was too large, and that alone spoke volumes about their differences.

The kid was going to be late. Hizashi planned to wake him and guide him to the Entrance Ceremony, since he knew the way, but as he wandered across the grass, he was no longer in a rush to go anywhere else. There were bandages wrapped around the boy's hands, and Hizashi instantly determined he was from the Hero Course. He must've been training hard, to earn wounds like that, and only the Hero Course needed that sort of gruelling training.

Hizashi went to wake him, but his hand stopped only inches away from his shoulder. He was so peaceful, so quiet, and the blond just couldn't bring himself to ruin his slumber, but he didn't want to leave him there either. The boy would get in trouble for missing the ceremony. To get in trouble on his first day… That would be scary.

But maybe it wouldn't be so scary if he had someone at his side.

Hizashi was feeling pretty tired too – he'd been too nervous to sleep last night and had stayed up studying into the early hours.

He curled up on the grass and accidentally pressed his back against the sleeping boy's leg. The blond almost pulled away, but a pleasant spark thrummed through him at the contact, and he no longer felt the urge to move. Before he could fall asleep as well, however, the boy shifted. Damn, he must've woken him up! The boy would feel guilty if he told him the truth! He had to act this out…

He squeezed his eyes shut and intentionally quivered his lip, as if he were upset.

The leg was moved away, but Hizashi automatically inched back, only stopping once they were touching again and that gentle thrum returned.

"You're too close," quietly grumbled the other boy, his voice naturally deeper than Hizashi's, but he didn't move his leg again.

Hizashi sniffled and emotionally asked, "Can I stay with you?"

"Why?"

The blond looked at him. When he was awake, the boy's face was sort of mean, yet there was a softness just beneath that Hizashi's sharp gaze couldn't miss. His eyes were heavy, his irises dark, but really he just looked tired - and irritated, since his nap had been rudely interrupted.

"I got lost," lied Hizashi, "and the Entrance Ceremony would've started by now, but we'll be in less trouble if there're two of us to tell off. You're a first year too, right?" The Hero student paused at the explanation and their face relaxed a little as they grunted in confirmation, believing his lie without question. "I'm Yamada, by the way, but you can call me Hizashi!"

"Aizawa," the other introduced sleepily.

"You in the Hero Course?"

Aizawa tilted his head, his black fringe falling into his eyes in a manner that was cute and unintentional, "General."

That caught him off-guard. Why were his hands all bandaged up if he hadn't been training? "Really?" Hizashi sat up and joined him beside the tree. He deliberately pressed their shoulders together to rekindle the warmth that ran between them. "Coulda fooled me! I'm in Support!" Yamada grinned as wide as he could, "Got top of the Support exam! They say I'm a genius!" He paused and waited for the usual remarks of wonder and awe that always accompanied the factoid.

Of course, he didn't need to mention the hours upon hours of studying he'd done in preparation for the exam, or the sleepless nights, or the pressure from his parents.

Instead, however, the boy told him, "You're loud."

Hizashi was taken aback by the unexpected comment, but certainly wasn't offended by it. All his childhood friends called him 'loud', but it usually took them a while before they openly said it. He laughed. "Wow! You're good! I actually have a vocal Quirk called Voice! My mother had a Quirk called Volume, while my dad had one called Mimic, so mine is a combination of both, although I can do things even they can't, like _this_!" He threw his voice as he said the final word, so it came from Aizawa's other side. "Isn't it cool? Oh, say something funny!" Hizashi's Quirk squirmed in his throat as he readied himself to record.

"No," stated the other kid.

Got it. "No," Hizashi mimicked. The new voice was warm in his throat as he swallowed it down and stored it in his chest. "Aren't I amazing? Everyone always tells me how amazing I am, and of course I am, so-"

"You're _too_ loud."

Again, Hizashi was taken aback again, his smile finally disappearing. With anyone else, he would've thought they were being rude, but something about this guy's tone threw him off… Hizashi's face grew instantly warm as he quickly checked his hearing-aids. Oh, the old things were malfunctioning! Oppsie! He had _literally _been too loud. He pulled them out to quickly clean them with his handkerchief and give them a once over, before shoving them back in. That sounded better… He smiled again and spoke in a softer voice, "Sorry, I really need new ones. If you want, we can find the Entrance Ceremony together. It might not be so awkward if two of us walk in, and we can just lie and say our bus was late."

Aizawa seemed to relax a little now his voice was quieter. "I'd rather stay here."

"Don't wanna meet your classmates?" Aizawa silently shook his head. The blond frowned and studied the boy, trying to discern and summarise everything he saw. He was smart, although not as smart as he was. The bandages on his hands spoke of training, but he wasn't in the Hero course, so he had no need to train, unless… "You don't wanna be in General, do you?" Aizawa shook his head and everything came together.

This boy was just like him…

Even though they'd just met, there was that gentle feeling that thrummed between them, and Hizashi knew they were more alike than they appeared. It was _okay _to tell him his secret, the one he'd even hidden from his parents… Right?

"To be honest, I don't wanna be in Support." Aizawa was staring at him now, and his cheeks still felt warm from earlier. "Don't get me wrong, I love tech, and I'm a total nerd, but…" Could he really just tell him? Hizashi turned and offered him his pinkie. "I've never told anyone this, so you gotta promise not to tell, okay? Pinkie-swear!"

Cherry blossoms fell around them, and some still dotted Aizawa's black hair. The sun cast peculiar shadows across his young face, but his tired eyes were set on him. The raven-haired boy lifted his hand and entwined their pinkies. That warmth thrummed through him, and he felt something take root in his chest, as if it were a new voice his Quirk had mimicked.

Hizashi grinned as he told him the secret he'd sheltered and savoured ever since he'd been a child. "I wanna be a hero!"

The boy didn't laugh at him, or mock him, or tell him it was impossible, as he'd imagined everyone else would. Aizawa's eyes widened in surprise, but the words he said next filled him with complete joy: "…Me too."

"Really?" Hizashi grabbed his bandaged hands, perhaps a little too roughly. "I mean, I know it's really stupid since I'm already so good at tech and support ware and stuff, but I really wanna use my Quirk to save people! I can yell really loud and hurt people's ears, if I wanted to! It's a super cool Quirk, right? What's yours?"

Aizawa was taken aback and for a moment he thought he wouldn't say, but the General student must've been swept up in his enthusiasm. "Erasure."

"Oh! I've heard of that one! I studied every listed Quirk I could find online! You can temporarily stop Quirks by looking at people, right?" Aizawa shyly nodded, and Hizashi was grinning so wide his lips were aching. "That's amazing! You gotta be a real good fighter, course, but you could be a super amazing hero with that power!"

Aizawa glanced away. "I can't fight robots…"

Right, the Hero Entrance Exam had involved fighting robots. No wonder he hadn't stood a chance… "Hey, are you gonna try to get into the Hero Course?" Aizawa looked back at him and nodded, resolute. "Okay! Let's promise!"

"Promise?"

He nodded and linked their pinkies on both hands this time. "Let's promise to become great heroes together!"

The boy continued to stare at him, those dark eyes incredulous, even as they dipped down to eye their connected hands. "Shouta," he said softly after swallowing. "My first name is Shouta…"

Hizashi nearly vibrated with complete and utter joy. "Can I call you Sho? You can call me Zashi!" His face was burning hot. "Or is it too soon? I know we just met, but we're so alike, and-"

"Fine, Zashi," he said shyly. "Promise. We'll both become heroes…"

"It's a promise, Sho." He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it up ecstatically. It was a cheap old model his mother had given him, second-hand, but he treasured it dearly. "Let's take a photo to commemorate it!" For a moment, Shouta looked ready to say no, but he glanced nervously to where one of their hands was still joined and nodded in agreement. Hizashi pulled their hands apart, only to wrap his entire arm around the General student's shoulder and pull him close as they moved into camera shot. "Say [HEROES!]"

-x-

When Aizawa returned to his apartment, he wasn't alone. He instantly fell into a fighting stance as he entered, but the man who stood there didn't make any sudden movements as he glanced him over. "So, you must be Eraserhead."

The man was alone, without any backup or weapons, but Aizawa didn't want to kill a man in his own apartment unless it was completely necessary – corpse removal would be tricky. "Who're you?"

"Name's Giran," he introduced casually. He was an older man with a casual suit (that fit him a lot nicer than Shouta's) and a pair of small round spectacles. "I'm an information broker, and figured I'd offer my services to the latest villain on the block."

"You don't watch the news?" Aizawa relaxed a little, but he was still on edge. An information broker was the sort of contact he needed and, judging by the fact he'd already found his identity and his apartment, he was a good one. "I'm supposedly a hero."

"I'm an information broker," Giran repeated with a sly smile, "if anyone believed what they heard on the news, I'd be out of work! Quite a… _place _you've got here." He glanced around his 'apartment' as he said it, lips twisting in melodramatic abhorrence. "Real homey… Well, let's get down to brass-tacks here, Eraserhead. Seems you've annoyed my favourite client."

He didn't need to question who he was referring to. "Present Mic."

"Exactly! Mic's great, good friend of mine, best contact to have. Let's skip the small talk since I'm sure we're both busy people. I need some dirt on him, and I thought you might be the one to go to." Giran scratched the back of his head and chewed on his lip.

"You want me to kill him?"

The broker _laughed_, showing a mouth full of stained teeth. "What gave ya that idea? Mic's my favourite pupil! But in this game, it's important to keep your friends just as close as your enemies. Never hurts to have something to dangle back over 'em. Think he's gonna confront me 'bout something soon, and I need a bit of leverage to keep him from getting uppity 'bout it. So, since he's taken such an interest in you, I figured maybe you'd taken an interest in him too."

"The only thing I'm interested in is severing his head from his spine."

"Touché." Giran laughed again, but there was an enlightened look in his face, as if Aizawa had confirmed some secret he wasn't aware of. "Well, I trade in information predominantly. Usually I work on an information-for-information system, but if you find anything I deem noteworthy about our little loudmouth, I'd be happy to pay you handsomely, if you prefer."

"Told me not to attack the hero Midnight. Does that count?"

The broker paused and mulled it over, before he sighed. "No, but I like your spunk. You ever get approached by a group called SYN? S-Y-N."

Aizawa almost shook his head, but stopped himself in time. "You're trying to get info for free."

Giran's laugh was more sheepish this time. "Caught me. How 'bout this, you tell me if you were or weren't, and I'll tell you a bit about them - information for information."

"Never heard of them."

The older man raised one eyebrow, his expression interested, but he followed through. "SYN was an organisation: The Synthetic Syndicate. Started as Yakuza, turned into a drug cartel, and finally into a villain network that expanded through a pretty strict recruitment system. The group was massive, had their hands in _everything – _drug smuggling, Quirk trafficking, assassination contracts, you get the idea. They fell about seven years back, after someone sold 'em out to Hero HQ, and most of the higher ups got arrested, although the media kept it all hushed up. No more SYN, but some of us remaining members are still flitting about. You've already met two others."

Present Mic and Kurogiri.

_Oh baby, I'm more villain than you'll ever be. Tonight might've been my debut, but I've been playing this game for years._

"Why'd you ask if they tried to recruit me?"

Giran winked. "Now who's trying to get free information? This is what's gonna happen, kid: I'll tell you my number. You won't write it down and I won't repeat it. You memorise it first try, or else you're not worth my time. If you call me, your quote is: '_I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none'_. Only after you say that will we talk. For obvious reasons, don't tell your quote to anyone, _especially _not to Mic. His voice mimicry is a bitch to work around."

"What's to keep me from tying you up now and torturing information from you?"

He rolled his shoulders, clearly blasé about the threat. "People've tried that before, kiddo. Pain ain't enough to make me a sell-out. You torture me, you won't hear shit, and you'll lose the best contact in the industry."

"Fine," he conceded. Giran grinned and told him the number, and he stored it in his memory for a rainy day.

"Pleasure doin' business, Eraserhead. We'll be in touch soon enough. I'm at the bar often too, if you ever feel like seeing my handsome face in person. Take care." The man left without ceremony, and Aizawa examined every inch of his apartment for any bugs or listening devices he might've placed. Upon finding nothing, he pulled off his tight suit and slumped on top of his sleeping bag.

SYN, huh? Aizawa's simple yes-or-no answer must've been important, to offer so much information in return… Present Mic was more dangerous than he'd given credit for.

Aizawa closed his eyes, deciding to forgo his shower until the morning, and he instantly fell asleep. His dreams were filled with a perfect smile, blond hair, playful green eyes and a warmth on his arm. He could almost hear the sweet words whispering promise after promise in his ear.


	10. Gentle Sin

Chapter Ten

**Gentle Sin**

**_"If I profane with my unworthiest hand  
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,  
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand  
to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."_**_  
\- Romeo (Act 1, Scene 5)_

Aizawa didn't typically work Thursday nights, but he'd been forced to swap his Wednesday shift to attend the reunion. Despite the extra hassle, once the night was in full swing, he no longer minded. The DJ was pretty good, even though Aizawa could only hear the music through the heavy club door. He didn't know much about them, just that they were a weekly-Thursday hire, so the club owners of the EXTRO-Dancer must've liked him - and, by the sound of it, the audience did too.

Inside he was playing some modern English song with male vocals and a firm bopping-beat, although the rough lyrics were too poignant for his current mood.

**_[Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you, I drink too much and that's an issue, but I'm okay. Hey, tell your friends it was nice to meet them, but I hope I never see them again.]_**

Aizawa was distracted as he checked over several ID's and waved away one that was obviously fake. They put up an argument, but a firm glare and a tightening of his shoulder muscles made the kid instantly back down. Intimidation was key to his profession.

**_[I know it breaks your heart, moved to the city in a broke down car and, four years no calls, now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar and I, I, I can't stop… No I, I, I can't stop~]_**

The music shifted into the chorus and Aizawa found himself lightly tapping his foot as he waved some more partygoers inside. It was more crowded than his usual nights – people must've really loved this guy. What did they call him? DJ Heat, or something weird like that. Such a dumb name… Just because it was in English didn't make it cool.

**_[So baby pull me closer in the back seat of your rover, that I know you can't afford, bite that tattoo on your shoulder, pull the sheets right off the corner of the mattress that you stole, from your roommate back in Boulder. We ain't ever gettin' older.]_**

Aizawa waved a few people inside and almost caught a glimpse of the DJ as the door opened, but the bouncer's eyes were dazed by the flare of coloured lights as they worked overtime to keep the audience hyped through the synthesiser beats.

**_[We ain't ever gettin' older. We ain't ever gettin' older.]_**

The doors closed and the volume softened, although he did notice the shift in singer to a female voice.

**_[You, look as good as the day I met you, I forgot just why I left you, I was insane. Stay, and play that Blink-182 song that we beat to death is Tucson, okay. I know it breaks your heart, moved to the city in a broke down car and, four years no calls, now I'm looking pretty in a hotel bar and I, I, I can't stop. No I, I, I can't stop.]_**

Aizawa tried to keep his thoughts from Hizashi, but the lyrics brought him back to the dream he'd had last night, one where he'd approached him and had gone with him after the reunion. It hadn't even been a sexy dream: they'd just sat and talked and it'd been _nice. _The two voices joined in a duet for the second chorus, but he didn't attempt to listen to it.

He recalled the papers he'd seen on his way to work. Hizashi's face had been plastered all over them, and there'd been pictures of the blond with that Hero Course stranger, with titles questioning whether it would spell another romance for the celebrity.

**_[We ain't ever gettin' older. We ain't ever gettin' older.]_**

The music softened, and the male voice was alone once more, although with the door in the way he could barely make out the repetitive lyrics.

Those photos could've been of him and Hizashi. He would've hated the attention, but if he were being completely honest, he'd rather his face beside the blond's than anyone else's. Besides, Aizawa was (unfortunately) no stranger to media attention, although he scowled at the knowledge of what the headlines _would've _read if it'd been them leaving together.

_Victim Forgives Assailant over Brutal Attack!_

Aizawa opened the door for another group of ravers who were eager to get in before the song ended, and that voice sounded so loud, although now it was mere repetition of that idiotic line.

**_[We ain't ever gettin' older. No, we ain't ever gettin' older. We ain't ever gettin' older. No, we ain't ever gettin' older.]_**

The door slammed shut, but the words were now loud and clear as the two voices came together for the final duet.

**_[We ain't ever gettin' older. No, we ain't ever gettin' older.]_**

The audience roared as the song ended. That DJ Heat must've been working hard on stage, to get the audience so hyped over the slower song. Aizawa exhaled and continued with his job.

-o-

Hizashi was sweating so much he could've bottled and sold it to creeps online. This place was always packed, the air-conditioner always in need of repairs, but no one except him seemed to mind the sweltering heat when he was onstage. After a few more songs he was ready to drop, but thankfully a slight buzz from his watch told him it was time to wrap things up.

"Yo, _[party rockers]! _It's time for our final song before DJ Heat signs out! Let's go _[super crazy]!" _They cheered and he played one final song to end the night, although by now he was relying on his well-tuned instincts and years of experience to pick the right finale. There was no reason to worry. The thumping beat and the strident chords pleased the public, and once it ended he said some quick farewells and disappeared out the back door, leaving the rest of the night to the automatic playlist.

The alleyway behind the place was calm and quiet compared to the chaos inside, and the chilly air made him gasp as it hit his drenched skin, but the sharp contrast was a pleasant relief. He leaned against the cool bricks, but despite the strenuousness of the gig, it'd been a long time since one had left him out of breath. Even so, he habitually ran himself through his breathing exercises to fill the time and replenish his energy, taking each breath deeper and deeper, working with his powerful diaphragm to fill every inch of his lungs with icy air.

"DJ Heat?"

Hizashi glanced up, his blond hair sticking to his forehead, his face feeling hot from exertion. A man stood at the entrance of the alleyway, silhouetted by the neon lights above. The blond grinned, even though he'd been enjoying his time alone. "That's me, sweetie. Always a pleasure to meet a fan."

The man approached, and something felt wrong in Hizashi's stomach. He was huge, definitely thanks to some mutation Quirk, and the way he walked up to him spoke of nothing but trouble. "I like your stuff," growled the stranger as they leaned close to him, reeking of potent alcohol and bad breath. It made his stomach churn. "You shake your ass for private shows~?"

Hizashi flexed the fingers on his left hand. After his recent tech-less run in with Eraserhead, he'd made sure to wear his taser glove that night. If the guy moved any closer, or didn't get the idea, well… He'd soon be 'enlightened' about proper etiquette. "I'm a DJ, _[Dear Listener]. _You want an escort? There're plenty of places around."

The mutation Quirk slammed his hand against the wall, right beside Hizashi's face, cornering him with his burly muscles. "Too bad, cause I wanna make that pretty voice of yours _scream~"_

The creep leaned even closer and his hand ran over Hizashi's jawline. Anger roiled deep inside him as his glove finished charging, but-

The mutation Quirk's eyes widened. His giant form was heaved away and slammed back against the opposite wall. They hissed in pain, but someone else now stood between Hizashi and the creep.

"Don't touch the entertainment," grumbled his 'saviour', and the DJ's heart skipped a beat. He recognised that voice.

The mutation Quirk bore sharp teeth at them and wrenched himself from the wall, but didn't retreat. "I'll do what I want!"

"I'm not allowed to use excessive force," drawled the lazy voice of Shouta Aizawa, "so don't give me reason to."

-o-

His warning went unheeded. The creep lunged at the bouncer, but even though this idiot was twice his size, Shouta made short work of him. The underground villain dodged his fist and instantly grabbed the man's arm, using his strength to fling him over his shoulder. The large body skidded across the ground, his (already ugly) face taking the brunt of the pavement.

Aizawa stretched his arms, his thick muscles deliberately obvious through his thin black shirt. The creep peeled himself from the dirt and turned back, but made the first smart decision he'd probably made in his entire life and fled. Shouta sighed and cricked his neck, disappointed the fight was over so soon. "You okay?"

"Yeah," said the DJ, and Aizawa felt his body stiffen. He turned to face the man, and his brain nearly shut down at the sight.

It was Hizashi Yamada, in the flesh, only two or three metres away. He was wearing a loose tank top and tight pants that left little to the imagination. His skin was flushed and coated in a layer of sweat, while his hair stuck messily to his forehead, and the first thought that trailed through Aizawa's distracted mind wasn't a tame one. This was probably what Hizashi Yamada looked like after a round of sex.

For a moment, Aizawa wondered if he should flee as well, but then he recalled his thoughts since last night, the regret he'd felt over-

"Are _you _okay?" asked Hizashi, a playful smile dragging Shouta's attention from his internal struggle. Fuck, he looked good.

Aizawa pulled the plastic water bottle from his belt and offered it to the DJ. "Here."

Hizashi took it with a grateful, "[_Thank you.]" _Aizawa had to look away as he downed the bottle, pretending to look around for other creeps as he waited. The blond drank every drop and tossed it into the nearby dumpster, his expression sheepish as he finally pulled himself from the wall. "And thanks for the help. I really owe you a drink…" He glanced at the dumpster and grinned awkwardly, "Maybe two."

"No," Aizawa said firmly, catching him off guard. He looked disheartened, and the bouncer scratched the back of his head as he finally relented. "_I_ owe _you_ a drink… For last night." Hizashi tilted his head, and he sighed as he explained further. "You helped me … with the award."

The blond looked surprised, and it was difficult to tell if his already flushed face grew a few shades darker. "Oh… Admittedly I wasn't really thinking when I did it. I was a bit distracted, and I guess seeing you up there like that just reminded me of old times… But I'm glad I did it." He smiled, this one softer than his usual grin. "I guess we each owe the other a drink. You clubbing 'round here, or…?"

Aizawa tugged at his black shirt and concisely explained, "Bouncer."

Hizashi looked surprised. "I've never seen you here – been working this gig for years."

"Don't work Thursdays," he said with a shrug. Hizashi's eyes noticeably slipped to his shoulders and trailed down his arms to his abs, and Aizawa's stomach grew taut.

_He's gonna sleep with someone tonight. If you go over there and talk to him, that someone might be you._

Dammit Kayama! She knew how to mess with his head, even after all this time.

"I've gotta finish my shift," Aizawa said lamely, drawing Hizashi's attention back to his face. He looked disappointed, and Shouta couldn't stop himself from adding, "But it's not for much longer. We could get a drink… if you're still in the area. I think we … have a lot to catch up on…"

Hizashi pulled a marker from some magical pocket on his pants and used his teeth to pull the lid off as he approached Aizawa, gesturing vaguely at his arm. He lifted it for him, tensing only momentarily when clammy hands pressed against him. A comforting warmth spread from the touch.

Hizashi wrote a string of numbers across his skin and glanced up at Aizawa when he'd finished, although he hadn't let go of his arm. "Call me when you're done," he said, the pen lid still clutched between his perfect teeth, "and we'll get a drink someplace quieter."

Aizawa nodded dumbly. He felt the unexpected desire to bury his fingers in that drenched blond hair, to pull that lid from his hot mouth and replace it with his tongue, but he didn't act on the urge. Instead, he just said, "Okay."

Hizashi released him and put the lid back on the marker. "Don't leave me hanging, 'kay? I've… really wanted to talk to you, for a long time."

Aizawa wasn't looking forward to _that _conversation, but he'd be lying to himself if he pretended he _wasn't_ looking forward to talking with Hizashi Yamada.

The blond smiled at him warmly, but was distracted by the sound of a ringtone. Hizashi made a sour face and stepped back as he pulled a phone from his magic pocket and checked the screen. "Sorry Sho, I've gotta answer this. Call me when you're off, 'kay?" Aizawa nodded, but was suddenly unsure, until Hizashi said that magic word… "Promise?"

He blinked in surprise and swallowed, although Hizashi's phone was still busily ringing in his hand. "Promise," he relented. This time, he would keep that promise.

The blond smiled, "I'll see you tonight." Aizawa nodded like a defective bobblehead and Hizashi hurried back inside the club, answering the phone just as the door shut behind him.

Aizawa's chest felt so warm, and his arm was tingling where the pen had strewn Hizashi's digits across his skin.

Wait… Was this really a smart thing to do? Hizashi worked for Hero HQ, _and_ he lived with the Pro-Hero Midnight, _and _all his friends were heroes, _and _Hizashi was _smart__. _Not only that, but the blond had seen him up-close in his villain costume when he'd rescued him from the building.

He should avoid Yamada at all costs, as he'd done for years, not have drinks with him, or want to kiss him, or want to- …

Aizawa had a difficult choice to make.

* * *

Song: Closer by The Chainsmokers (Featuring Halsey)


	11. Speak More

Chapter Eleven

**Speak More**

**_"A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and  
will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month."_**_  
\- Romeo (Act 2, Scene 4)_

Hizashi answered the phone as he headed inside the club, even though it was difficult to hear anything over the loud music. "One second, I can't hear you…" he murmured with his radio voice while he Bluetoothed the phone directly to his hearing-aids. "Better. Let's hear it."

_"'Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast.'"_

"Yeah yeah, I already know it's you, Giran. Violent delights, you get the drill. Why're you calling me?"

_"Well someone's moody tonight," _said the information broker with a snigger.

"Course I'm moody," he grumbled. "My information broker didn't warn me that the man I wanted info on _works _at the club I also work at."

_"I was busy."_

The DJ slipped into the small greenroom where he'd stored his things and wiped himself down with a towel, just as the chill was starting to sink into his bones. "When'll the file be ready?"

_"Free tonight?"_

"_[Dunno.]_ We'll find out soon enough." He pulled on his ordinary clothes and ran a brush through his shortish hair. "Should I be concerned over whatever deal you've made with him?"

Giran's laugh was sheepish, as if he'd been caught red handed. _"Just told him if he ever finds something interesting 'bout you, it could be very financially beneficial for the both of us. You'd do the same, Mic: you've _done _the same."_

Hizashi twitched his lip, moustache sticking at an odd angle until he fixed it in the mirror. Giran was as sharp as ever. "He won't find anything you haven't found already. Face it, old man, I'm squeaky clean. I learnt from the best."

_"Can't blame a guy for keeping an ear to the ground." _Giran said with an exhale, and Hizashi could practically smell the cigarette smoke in the air._ "File'll be ready tonight. I'll be at Kurogiri's if you want it, and I'll leave it with him if you don't show up, but you know what I want as payment."_

Hizashi sighed and pulled on his jacket, checking himself out in the mirror. He looked as amazing as ever, but would_ Shouta_ think so too? "I've already got the list. Honestly, try to give me something harder next time. You want the same thing every year and it's getting boring."

_"I'll keep that in mind, sunshine. See you tonight if your date falls through."_

He hung up and exhaled, pulling himself onto the makeup table as he turned the Bluetooth off. Man, too much adrenaline was rushing through him. Hizashi leaned against the mirror and stared into the distance, cradling his phone between his thumbs.

Present Mic didn't have a _physical_ list, of course: he kept everything carefully organised in his mind. He was an information sponge, and Giran wouldn't do anything too drastic to piss him off. It was a cutthroat business, after all, and the broker knew how many throats Hizashi had (metaphorically) cut to get where he was.

He rolled his phone in his hands, praying for it to buzz when Aizawa got off shift, but of course his mind wandered as he waited. Finally, he and Shouta would be able to talk about…

_Eight Years Ago_

The First Sports Festival was approaching, and they were excited. This was their big chance to show off their skills, their Quirks, _everything _they'd worked on since their first day together. Nemuri and Tensei, two students in the Hero Course and now good friends, had helped them train, and they were all confident in their dream.

If they drew enough attention at the Sports Festival, they would take their transfer requests seriously and they could both go into the Hero Course together. Their promise would be fulfilled and everything would be perfect. They had the skills, they had the grades, and they had the determination, so there was no way they'd trip at the finish line.

Funnily, the very first event was an obstacle course. Hizashi, Nemuri and Tensei all put their hands together, their grins identical.

"Come on, Sho!" the blond called, waving to the fourth member of their small group.

Shouta joined them and placed his hand atop Hizashi's in the centre, his face tired but with determination flaring in his eyes. "We'll do it," he said calmly.

Hizashi roared with laughter. "Of course we will! We'll stick together! We can do _anything _if we're all together!"

"You remember the list?" Nemuri asked eagerly, earning a disapproving look from Tensei.

"I still do not condone the need of this 'list'," he said firmly. "It's dishonest."

Hizashi scratched the back of his head with his freehand, his grin sheepish and goofy. "But we studied it for ages! Isn't it only fair we learn the students we're up against?"

"He's right," Shouta said warily. "We know the plan. Zashi and I won't use our Quirks this round. In the next, you can rely on us."

"Exactly!" said the blond. "My strategy is perfect! Nem and Ten can get us all through this part, and since no one'll know our Quirks, that'll give us an advantage second round! So, we ready?"

They all nodded and were told to get into position. As soon as the bell rang, their plan was put into action. Tearing sounds filled the air as Shouta, Hizashi and Tensei simultaneously ripped the hem of their sports jackets and wrapped them around their faces, just as Nemuri slipped her jacket off and tied it around her waist. Others began to run.

"Ready, Kayama?" Tensei asked, but she was already pulling herself onto his shoulders.

"Just start going, rocket boy!"

The engines in his arms activated and he raced ahead with the girl on his shoulders, her Somnambulist Quirk activated. Powder swirled around her and clouded over the other contestants, thanks to Tensei's speed. Hizashi and Shouta had fallen behind to avoid the hectic pushing and shoving of the other students, but were immune to Nemuri's pheromones thanks to the cloths around their faces.

They fist bumped as they ran, the first step in their plan clearly successful as other students dropped like flies. The commentator called out over the chaos.

_"Looks like Nemuri Kayama and Tensei Iida have taken the lead, leaving the others in their dust - __**literally**__! Hang on two shakes of a tail feather though, folks! Coming in from the rear are Hizashi Yamada from the Support course and Shouta Aizawa from General! Judging by the cloths around their faces, this is all part of their plan!"_

Some students were still running, although they'd been slowed, while others were barely affected at all. As expected, most of the competition had been left behind. As they approached the first hurdle, Tensei and Nemuri were waiting for them.

_"They ARE working as a team! Giving up the lead to work with your buds? Doesn't it warm your heart, folks?"_

They'd studied every past Sports Festival and had figured out the pattern of courses and events. Everything was cycled, and this year was just the same. The first hurdle was robots – Shouta's worst enemy. Nemuri had entered the Hero Course through recommendation, but Tensei had told them everything about the robots he'd faced during his entrance exam so they could thoroughly prepare.

While Hizashi's Quirk would be effective against them, he'd save it for the next round. Of course they were all working as a team, even if it meant sacrificing first place: so long as they all made it through this round, they'd definitely win the second.

Still, they weren't worried for one main reason: Hizashi Yamada was the top of _Support_.

He was their loophole. Since the Hero course students got all the formal combat training for their Quirks, to keep things fair between the classes, those from the Support branch could bring whatever gadgets they wanted into the arena, so long as they developed them themselves.

"_[Are you ready?]" _Hizashi asked as he stepped forward, his face feeling hot. He knew right now he was being watched by thousands of people, and that idea was completely terrifying. He had to show them all how amazing he was…

No, he wasn't doing this for _them_. He was doing this for Shouta, Nemuri and Tensei. Why would he care about a world of faceless people when his friends were there?

Hizashi gave Nemuri the cloth from his face and she used the long material to block her ears, as did Tensei and Shouta, while the blond switched off his hearing-aids. It was time to test out his baby. He pulled something from the pocket of his jacket and slipped it over his head like a necklace, his thumb hitting the button without hesitation.

It pulsed in his hand and he felt the shudders it released rather than heard them.

"[_Hope you like Darude – Sandstorm!]"_ he called, although he doubted anyone could hear him over the altered music. It was so high that even his ears felt uncomfortable.

A few students collapsed to their knees, unable to do anything against the weaponised music, and it didn't only affect the people. In front of them, the robots shuddered as their internals were distorted by the sound. They were too well built to be fried by his attack, but there was a window of opportunity as their sensors recalibrated.

Tensei raced ahead, with Nemuri still on his shoulders, while Hizashi grabbed Shouta's hand to guide him towards the next obstacle. As soon as they were beyond the robots, the Support student switched off the device and turned his hearing-aids back on, just in time to hear the impressed cries of the commentator.

_"Hope your ears are still okay out there! That's definitely a unique way of getting past the robots, and it seems like they're the first four to get through the first obstacle! Whatever that Support whiz did has worn off and students are now in a hot fight with the robots, giving our group of besties a head start! Let's see if they can manage through the mountain climb!"_

The next obstacle consisted of a sheer cliff they would have to climb. None of their Quirks would give them an advantage, _but _one was an expert at terrain traversal. Shouta led the group as they tied their jackets together to form a makeshift rope that was wrapped around his waist and left to dangle behind.

They'd go up single file, with Shouta above them, and if one was about to fall, they could grab the makeshift cord to steady themselves. Even though Tensei was the strongest of the four, this had been a careful decision. While he couldn't handle all of their weight at once, the General student had the quickest reflexes and would be able to stabilise himself at a moment's notice.

Shouta chose the location quickly but carefully, his tired eyes able to zoom in on the easiest route. His hands moved deftly as he pulled himself up, and they followed in the order of slowest reflexes to the quickest. Hizashi was just behind Aizawa, then Iida and finally Nemuri.

When Hizashi looked up, he had to keep himself focused on the task at hand, and not on the sight of Shouta's- And, just like that, he was focusing on something he shouldn't've been…

_Dammit Zashi, _he mentally scolded himself, _now is NOT the time to check out your bestie's behind! You're fifteen and you're into girls! You have the rest of your adult life to think about behinds and- Why does that make me sound like a pervert? Sho's probably super straight too, so even if I ever wanted to date that behind, he'd- _

Hizashi's hand slipped. As his entire body tipped backwards, he reflexively grabbed the jackets and steadied himself. Aizawa braced against the wall and held his weight, taking a moment to glance back at him with a silent question while he reconfirmed his footing.

The blond rapidly nodded, signalling he was okay to continue, but it felt like his cheeks were on fire. Damn, he'd almost messed everything up! He managed to clear his thoughts as he continued to climb upwards. Shouta finally reached the ledge and offered a hand to Hizashi, who eagerly took it. Sho's hand was warm and grimy from the climb, and sweaty like his own, but Hizashi smiled toothily at the help.

Tensei and Nemuri were on the ledge shortly after, and then they raced across the even platform. However, a few other students were closing in, their Quirks helping them conquer the sheer cliff face, plus they still had the trip down the other side to worry about.

Iida went first with Nemuri in his arms. He took a running leap off the cliff, activating his jets and using several impressive spins to alter his course in mid-air to slow his decent. Hizashi laughed incredulously, although he'd seen this so many times before from their practise sessions.

He grabbed Shouta Aizawa and pulled him close, "Ready?"

For just a moment he thought he saw the General student's face turn red, but they were already running off the cliff before he could read more into it. Shouta's arms held him close and Hizashi clung tight with his legs and right arm, while he pulled the ripcord on his belt.

_"Woah!" _called the presenter as a small parachute emerged from Hizashi's belt, large enough to support their conjoined weight but small enough to not slow their decent to a snail's pace. _"How prepared_ are_ these kids? Don't forget this is supposed to be a competition! Well, there's nothing in the rules that says they can't help, but… You know what? GO LITTLE GUYS! WE'RE CHEERING FOR YOU!"_

Hizashi dislodged the parachute once they neared the ground, and Aizawa landed on his feet with him still in his arms. The blond laughed as he let him go, and they were running to catch up with Nemuri and Tensei as quickly as they could, but this last obstacle would be a free-for-all. "You're just like a cat, Sho!"

Shouta grunted, but there was a slight smile on his face that made warmth blossom in Hizashi's chest.

The last obstacle was a field of landmines.

Tensei had already put Nemuri down, but despite his speed, the girl was ahead of him. Judging by several smoking areas, the Engine Quirk had tried dashing through, only to get hit by several blasts. Nemuri had the quicker reflexes and keener sight, and was easily making her way through the field with her gymnast's finesse.

Hizashi and Shouta stopped at the start of the field and tagged each other's hands, signalling the temporary end of their teamwork. The Erasure Quirk dashed ahead, making quicker progress than Nemuri and Tensei, but Hizashi knew he couldn't manage the same feats.

He could've built something useful, some amazing tech that could've helped him leap this hurdle with ease, but Hizashi hadn't tried. He'd only done so for the robots to help his friends, but Hizashi Yamada wasn't there to promote his gear, like all the other Support Course students: he was there to promote himself.

Hizashi didn't want to be a techie, as much as he loved building and planning.

He didn't want to be a techie.

He was the weakest of the three physically and he knew it, but that didn't stop him from grinning. He was the weakest, but he was also the smartest. He just needed…

"What's wrong, Support?" called a male voice to his right. A Hero Course student reached the field and grinned at him with sharp canines. "This part too hard without a decent Quirk?" Hizashi instantly recognised him from Nemuri's list.

Sekijiro Kan – Quirk: Blood Control.

Hizashi grinned when he noticed how the boy wasn't braving the minefield. Kan's shoulders were slumped, with dark circles under his eyes, and despite the grin he was breathing hard. "You use blood with your Quirk, right? That glove helps extract it." He pointed to the glove on the boy's left arm, which had several tubes sticking out of it, and some even stuck into his skin.

Kan looked surprised, but didn't get distracted by it for too long. "What's it to you?"

Hizashi licked his lips when he saw just how far ahead his friends were. "Help me cross, and I'll let you take first place." Kan hesitated, and clenched his fists. The blond knew why and instantly explained, "You don't have enough blood to cross on your own."

The boy glanced away. "Lost a lot already. Can only recuperate about 71% of what I use."

"Can you use anyone's blood?"

"Only Type B, like mine."

Hizashi grinned and smacked his arm as he offered it to the student. "Perfect! Let's make a deal. I'll be your donor if you get us across." Kan looked at him as if he were crazy, and the assumption wasn't too far off. It would be fine though – with the glove their blood wouldn't mix, and the minefield wasn't too long. He'd still have plenty of blood by the end. With no other choice, the Dracula-wannabe nodded and stooped a little so Hizashi could climb onto his back.

Sometimes you just had to be a little crazy.

Hizashi flinched when the needles dug into the crook of each arm, but he held on tight to the larger boy, although he felt dizzy at the sight of bright red running through the tubes. Kan ran and Hizashi watched as blood levitated around the Hero student's feet, keeping them just off the ground.

The blond was more fascinated by it than disturbed, although he felt woozier with the more progress they made. It was funny to see the look on Tensei's face as they passed him, and soon enough they'd caught up with Nemuri and Shouta, who'd been racing each other for first place.

Hizashi looked forward to seeing the look on Sho's faces when-

Hizashi was pulled from the memory. His phone buzzed between his fingers. The screen spoke of a private number, but he answered it immediately, "Yo?"

"My shift's over," Shouta Aizawa murmured, his voice rougher than it'd been earlier. "You still in the area?"

His chest fluttered and he instantly hopped off the table. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the alleyway. We … have a lot to talk about, Sho."


	12. Borrow Cupid's Wings

Chapter Twelve

**Borrow Cupid's Wings**

**_"You are a lover, borrow Cupid's wings,  
And soar with them above a common bound."  
_**_(Mercutio – Act 1, Scene 4)_

Aizawa waited in the alleyway for the blond, but it didn't take long for the door to open and a familiar form to step out in ordinary clothes, without three layers of sweat clinging to him.

"Yo, aren't you cold?" Hizashi asked softly as he joined him at his side, his emerald eyes glancing over his bare arms (perhaps for a little too long).

"No," he answered honestly and scratched the back of his head. "Where'd you wanna go?" Hizashi's expression grew thoughtful beneath his rounded spectacles, and the red frames once again reminded Shouta of his own villain mask.

Was he doing the right thing by talking with Hizashi? Aizawa was a villain now. What if Present Mic found out about him? No, Mic already knew about them from the rescue on the news… That idiotic villain (hopefully) wouldn't be stupid enough to target one of Hero HQ's best techies.

But what if Hizashi realised Shouta was a villain? He was _smart,_ and if he found out, Aizawa was as good as done…

Closure.

They would have one night to talk and get some closure over what'd happened between them, and then he'd never talk to him again.

Then again, he knew ignoring Hizashi was easier said than done…

_Eight Years Ago_

"I'm gonna beat you, Shouta!" Kayama called as she leapt ahead of him again, their race neck-and-neck. He was faster than her, so he wasn't worried, but she knew exactly how to mess with him. "Winner gets to ask Hizashi on a date!"

His heart fell at the image of Nemuri and Hizashi on a date together, kissing and holding hands, and he nearly set off a landmine in his inattentiveness. "You can have him," he called back at her, ignoring how hot his face felt. It was from the exertion, of course – exertion and definitely nothing else.

She laughed, even as he pushed ahead and took the lead. "So mean, lover boy! You just don't realise how much he _likes _you~!"

He ignored it. Hizashi didn't_ like-_like him. Why would he like someone like Shouta Aizawa? The blond was charming, and funny, and smart, and his Quirk was amazing, while Shouta… Well, he couldn't talk his way out of a sleeping bag. Yamada deserved someone who'd make him happy. Besides, the blond probably wasn't into men at all…

"I bet he writes little notes in his diary!" she continued, not relenting in her verbal onslaught. "Mr. Hizashi Aizawa! Or would you rather be Mr. Shouta Yamada?" He must've slowed a little, for Kayama was gaining again. "You two are so oblivious! You should just-"

She was interrupted as someone flew past them. No, they weren't flying, they were _running _on levitating puddles of _blood_. He remembered learning about a Hero course student who used a blood manipulation Quirk from Kayama's list, but Aizawa couldn't remember their name. Dammit, the guy could move so fast when he didn't have to avoid the mines!

However, what caught them completely off-guard, was the sight of blond hair and a tired grin. Hizashi waved from the other boy's back.

Something bugged him about the sight. Zashi's arms were wrapped around the nameless Hero student, as were his legs, and something bitter twisted in his stomach. Kayama was completely forgotten. Whatever this rank feeling was, it fuelled him onwards like nothing else had. He'd show Hizashi how cool he was! He could've easily used his Erasure Quirk to stop the blood user from advancing, but he firmly remembered their shared decision to not use their Quirks in the first round.

No, Shouta didn't need his Quirk to beat this guy. He didn't need to use his Quirk, and that would prove who the stronger one was.

Aizawa was going to win this round for Hizashi!

His legs were aching beneath him, his brain working overtime to dodge the mines, but he knew the blond was watching him from the other boy's back. With Hizashi watching, he felt as light as a feather.

"Go Sho!" he called, but Aizawa barely heard the encouragement as he threw his body ever forward. If he'd looked around, he would've noticed how far behind Kayama was, but he was too focused to see anything beyond the mines and Hizashi and his **enemy**.

_"Woah! It's a tight race to the finish line, folks! Who will be our winner? Kan and Yamada are still in the lead, but Aizawa's closing the distance fast! I'm guessing Yamada's heavier than he looks, but that was still smart thinking! I don't know why these two are holding off on using their Quirks, but maybe we'll get to see what they can really do in the next round! They're almost through and Aizawa- Woah!"_

Aizawa clenched his teeth and tore ahead, leaping free of the final few mines and taking the lead. Everything was clear now, with the finish line just at the end of this tunnel. He was going to come first!

There was a slight shuffling behind and he risked a glance back.

The Blood Quirk was now free from the mines too, but he'd stopped briefly to drop Hizashi at the tunnel's entrance. Without the weight of the blond, he was fast: not faster than him, but Shouta was distracted by the sight of Hizashi shakily pulling himself to his feet.

"Dammit," he groaned and turned around, just before he crossed the finish line.

"_What's this?" _called the announcer in complete shock. _"You're going the wrong way, kid!"_

The Blood Quirk grinned smugly as he took the lead, but all Aizawa saw was Hizashi Yamada leaning against the wall, pushing his heavy feet onwards, despite his obvious faintness. Those green eyes looked up at him, dark rimmed but surprised. "Sho…?"

Aizawa finally reached him and crouched so he could pull the weary boy onto his back. "Come on, Zashi," he said as he stumbled with him towards the finish line, "let's end this together."

The blond grinned but was clearly exhausted. The announcer had assumed he was heavy, but Aizawa felt _lighter_ once Hizashi wrapped his arms around his neck. "Guess I didn't have as much blood as I thought…"

"You're an idiot," Aizawa said, but there was fondness in his voice.

_"And our winner is Sekijiro Kan from Hero Course 1-B!" _Cheers rang ahead, and Aizawa's stomach twisted at the thought of the audience awaiting them.

"Think we'll have to give speeches?" Aizawa asked drearily. "I hate crowds."

Hizashi smiled at him sleepily, his face coming to rest against his black hair. "If that happens then just look at me, Sho. Pretend no one else is around. If that doesn't work, cover your mouth and trust me." Shouta nodded, but was surprised when the blond lightly nuzzled him. "Thanks for coming back…"

Aizawa smiled, his face feeling warm as he shyly held Hizashi closer. "Anytime."

They crossed the finish line together and everyone cheered.

_Present Day_

"There's a bar near here," Hizashi suggested, drawing him from his memory. "You owe me a drink, and I owe you at least two."

Right, closure. Closure and nothing else. Aizawa nodded and Hizashi didn't hesitate to take his arm, surprising him, but he certainly didn't pull away as he let the blond lead him on. The bar he stopped at was down a back alley, but the place was clean, warm and pleasant as they stepped inside.

The bartender called a greeting and they sat at a table near the back, where they were left with a drink menu and a flickering candle for added atmosphere. "I'm a bit of a regular here," Hizashi admitted with a sheepish grin. "The gig always takes it out of me. That place _really _needs to fix their air conditioner! _[It's too hot for DJ Heat!]" _He sighed and relaxed back in the booth.

Aizawa wasn't sure how to act. It was impossible to discern whether things were awkward or not between them. Hizashi was someone who always _appeared_ open about his emotions, but his entire perception of the blond had been shaken since that one moment, after _the incident_, when he'd approached Aizawa and smiled. The grin had been so fake and forced and pained that it had cast a total disconnect over everything he'd once known about Hizashi Yamada.

"Whatcha drinking?" asked the DJ, drawing him from his thoughts.

Aizawa glanced over the menu but didn't bother picking it up. "Gin and tonic."

The bartender came over and Hizashi ordered his drink, along with a beer for himself. Once the man was gone, the blond looked back at him and smiled. "Look, Sho, we both said and did things we – probably – regret at the reunion, but let's pretend those never happened, 'kay?"

Aizawa sighed and folded his arms on the table as he organised his thoughts. "No, I was cruel. Don't pretend I wasn't. I just…" Why was it so difficult to word everything? "You look good."

"Of course I do," said the blond without a single doubt in his voice, "but thanks for noticing." He winked. "So, you already know everything 'bout me: I work for Hero HQ, I host a radio show, _and _I work DJing gigs. I'm a super busy guy! What've you been doing with your life?"

Shouta scratched the back of his neck. "I'm a bouncer. Stay physically fit 'cause of it, but … that's about it."

"You still in touch with anyone from school?" Shouta shook his head. Couldn't still be in touch if he'd never been in touch to begin with. "Well I live with Nemuri, and I'm still super close with everyone from the Support and Hero courses. Oh, Tensei's younger brother is wanting to become a hero too! Guess he was really inspired by his _[plus ultra big bro!]"_

"…At the reunion, you mentioned Heater…"

Hizashi grinned and the expression was seemingly genuine as he pulled out his phone and showed him a photo of the black cat. "Yeah! Here she is! She's still adorable, right?"

Aizawa found himself smiling softly at the picture. The small kitten they'd rescued was now completely grown, and by the look of it she was healthy and happy. "Can't believe you stuck with Heater… Who actually names a kitten _Heater?_"

"Come on, it was a stroke of brilliance! You remember how cool I was when I came up with it?" He made a flashy pose, and although he knew it was the sort of thing he'd do for a camera, there was something so enthusiastic about it that he was reminded of the boy he'd befriended long ago.

This wasn't forced, and that brought some relief.

"Cool? You looked like a drowned rat." He was still smiling when he said it.

Hizashi gasped and pursed his lips, "I looked _[super cool!]"_

Shouta snickered and rubbed the back of his neck, although something odd stirred in his gut. They were talking fondly of that day, when they'd been sixteen, but neither was willing to mention the kiss…

Before he could say anything more, their drinks arrived. He nodded at the bartender and sipped the gin and tonic, although it wasn't as nice as the one he'd had at Kurogiri's bar.

Right, he was there for closure. They needed to talk about what'd happened all those years ago, when they'd been _fifteen._

-o-

"We should talk about the Sports Festival," Aizawa said slowly, catching him off-guard.

Hizashi knew he should make himself smile, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it anymore as he rested his cheek on his hand. "We should," he agreed, his voice softer than intended. "You remember how good we were at the start? It … still means a lot, that you came back for me."

Aizawa nodded, and Hizashi waited to hear some excuse as to why he'd given up first place – about how it'd been logical for the next round, how he hadn't wanted the attention – but was surprised when the Erasure villain simply said, "I couldn't leave you like that…"

Hizashi didn't have to force the next smile. "You were amazing."

"You were great in the Cavalry round. I swear my ears are_ still_ ringing."

"Really?" Hizashi asked, grinning gently as he was brought back to that day. Right, they'd talk about the happy times first. They could take their time…

_Eight Years Ago_

Recovery Girl checked him over, but with a quick kiss on the forehead he was fine, if still a little tired. Tensei chewed him out for 'conspiring with the enemy' but praised Shouta for choosing his friendship over first place.

"But didn't I look cool?" asked the blond, toothy grin hidden just beneath a playful pout.

"Men," huffed Nemuri as she put her hands on her hips, "all they want is to use you, and then they dump you as soon as they're done!"

Hizashi snickered and playfully asked, "Who broke your heart? I figured it'd just be a temporary alliance with Kan. Can't blame him for wanting to win, and it was worth it to see the looks on your faces!" And the chance to wrap his arms around Shouta, but he didn't need to openly admit that part.

"Because of your desire to see 'the looks on our faces'," scolded Tensei, "Aizawa was forced to give up his first-place position!"

"Wasn't forced to do anything," Shouta lazily claimed, and Hizashi gave him a look of approval. Thankfully they weren't asked to give any speeches, but the short rest was coming to a close. Nevertheless, they weren't worried. Not only had they predicted what this second round would be by examining the past patterns, they'd practiced _every _second round contest to ensure they were prepared for whatever was thrown at them.

One of the pro-hero teachers stood on the podium and declared the next contest, the 'Cavalry' battle, as she also explained the rules. The first forty-two who made it through the obstacle course went on to this round, while all others were disqualified. Each of them was given a score based on where they'd come, with Sekijiro Kan earning 10,000,000 points for first place.

The goal of the game was to get into teams of two to four with a teammate/s holding up someone who would wear a headband with their team's total score on. The top four teams would move onto the next round, which would undoubtably be the one on one fights.

They had fifteen minutes to choose their teams, but the group of four was already prepared as they put their hands together. Shouta had been second, Hizashi third, Nemuri fourth and Tensei fifth, meaning they had a combined total of 790 points, making them the second highest score of all the groups. This would work in their favour, as most others would be aiming for Kan's group, but it would also mean they were a prime target.

Even so, the group weren't worried. They didn't need to steal any headbands: they just had to hold onto their own, remain on the defensive, and victory was assured.

Their positions had been carefully planned beforehand: Tensei would be in the lead, Nemuri would have the left flank, Hizashi would have the right, and Shouta was the rider. It'd been a tough decision, one they would've mulled over for hours had they not had the blond's strategic mind.

Shouta had the best natural reflexes when it came to dodging and swiping. If something happened to their headband, the General student would notice instantly, while Hizashi and Nemuri were at a higher risk of getting distracted in the heat of combat. His Quirk also required a clear vantage point, while Tensei could drag them away in an emergency.

They couldn't rely on Nemuri's Quirk this round since they didn't want to tear up their jackets anymore, and they'd probably get scolded by the school (if not by their parents) if they tore apart their white tank tops too. Nevertheless, Shouta and Hizashi were the group's secret weapons, and they'd been training hard for this round.

The teams were organised and the bell rang to signal the start of the cavalry battle. Thankfully, despite their high point total, their group wasn't one of the first to be targeted, thanks to their clear organisation in the obstacle course. Kan's team was the favourite of the first round of assaults, while Team Hi-Ta-Nem-Sei (Hizashi's idea) were largely ignored.

Still, it was only a matter of time before the others grew more and more desperate and their eyes landed on them.

"Two of them aren't even from the Hero course!" one student called with a laugh. "They didn't use their Quirks for the race! Bet they've got busted Quirks! Easy targets!"

"You wanna try us?" Hizashi called out, voice louder than it should've been but not loud enough to seem entirely impossible. He grinned at them, and something must've been menacing in his appearance for the entire group stepped back in alarm. "Come give us a taste!"

Needless to say, the group backed off entirely. Nemuri whistled. "I'm impressed, Zaza. Didn't think your face could scare people so easily."

He looked at her, offended. "My face is perfect!"

"What do you think, Shouta?"

"Focus," warned their rider, his eyes scanning the field.

The first major threat, however, was a group of four girls wearing matching cat-ears. Hizashi recognised them instantly from Nemuri's list, but they were from the other hero class. Apparently they referred to themselves as the 'Wild Wild Pussycats' and although he knew all of their names by heart, Nemuri had only known two of their Quirks: Yawara's Pliabody and Tsuchikawa's Earth Flow.

A quick glance over the other two members told him they didn't have mutation Quirks, meaning they wouldn't be immune to Shouta's Erasure.

"Wild Wild Pussycats!" called Sosaki, one of the girls with an unknown Quirk. "Let's get their headband!"

The other three girls cheered and ran at them, just as the earth around their feet trembled. "The blonde one!" Hizashi warned and the Shouta instantly used his Erasure Quirk on her.

The ground stilled and the blonde girl cried in shock. "Wait! My Quirk!"

_"General Studies: Shouta Aizawa!" _called the presenter. _"His Quirk: Erasure! He can Erase the Quirk of anyone he looks at!" _But only 'til he blinks, Hizashi's mind finished. There were a few audible gasps, and the audience cheered at the unexpected twist. He felt Shouta shift uncomfortably beside him, but Hizashi squeezed his ankle to reassure him.

He'd take the limelight, if only to spare Shouta from their stares. Hizashi winked at the others, and their formation moved so they were packed tight together. Aizawa shifted his weight onto Tensei's shoulders and they all covered their ears, while Hizashi switched off his hearing-aids. He inhaled and ignored the butterflies in his stomach as he finally showed off his Voice Quirk to the entire world.

**_"WOWZER, USUALLY I THINK PUSSYCATS ARE PRETTY CUTE, [LISTENERS], BUT THEY'RE NO MATCH FOR OUR _****_[PUR-FECTION!]_****_"_**

The other teams were taken by complete surprise. Many covered their ears automatically and a few groups even dropped their rider in the sudden sensory assault. Satisfied, he switched his hearing-aids back on, but for a moment he thought he'd broken them: everything was dead silent.

Then everyone _cheered. _The sound was deafening, and not because of his glitchy hearing-aids, or because of the volume: it was deafening because the people were cheering for **_him_**_!_

"_Woah! What a Quirk!" _called the presenter, clearly amazed. _"That would be Hizashi Yamada, the one who scored the highest in the written entrance exam! His Quirk: Voice. It's a __**fun **__one, people! The boy is practically a walking speaker system! He can change his voice's volume, pitch, even the bass! Scary!"_

Hizashi's Quirk squirmed in his throat as he swallowed the man's voice and let it take root in his chest. **"That's not all!" **he said, mimicking the presenter's voice and raising the volume so it was loud enough for the audience to hear_. _**"I can mimic too****_, _****and I can throw it, and-"**

He was silenced when an arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a headlock. "You're too loud," grumbled Shouta, and the blond grinned sheepishly, his face burning hot.

"Sorry Sho," he said, back in his own ordinary voice at ordinary volume, and he was released. However, he was surprised by the sight of red. "Ah, you're bleeding!" He glanced around his friends and they _all _had blood running from their ears.

Shouta rolled his shoulders, "It's fine."

"You were just a bit louder than you were in practise," Nemuri explained. "We're still in this though! You really gave a great show! But was the cat pun _really _necessary?"

"Stay on guard," warned Tensei.

_"Well, thanks to that kid's crazy wicked Quirk, it looks like four other teams have dropped their riders and have been disqualified! One moment… Yep, the judges have agreed! I'm really rooting for these kids! Let's hope they manage to hold onto those points in these last few minutes!"_

They did. After finding out about their Erasure and Voice Quirks, no one even went _near _them. Soon the buzzer sounded, the rounded ended, and team Hi-Ta-Nem-Sei took second place.

The crowd cheered and Hizashi felt their eyes on him, but the attention no longer brought fear and butterflies as it had before. His heart raced in a way he'd never previously experienced, and even as his friends hugged him, all he saw were the faceless crowds, all cheering, just for him.

"Thanks, Zashi." He was surprised when Shouta lifted his hand and placed it atop his head, affectionately ruffling his short blond hair while he offered one of his rare smiles. "You did good."

Hizashi Yamada forgot about the crowd entirely when Shouta Aizawa smiled at him, and he remembered their promise. "_We _did _great_," he corrected, feeling his own grin spread across his lips as he flung his arms around the General student and hugged him tightly. He'd never felt happier.

They were ready for the final phase of the festival: The Tournaments.


	13. Soul of Lead

Chapter Thirteen

**Soul of Lead**

**_"Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes  
with nimble soles, I have a soul of lead  
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move."_**_  
(Romeo – Act 1, Scene 4)_

Aizawa smiled as Hizashi reminded him of the Cavalry round, but the atmosphere was darkening between them. "You remember more details than I do," he said softly after taking another sip of the gin and tonic. His glass was nearly dry, but Hizashi ordered them two more drinks before he finished it. It was undoubtedly an automatic response for the blond: to be a businessman in Japan you had to hold your alcohol.

"Maybe I think about it more," he said after a snort. "The good parts, at least."

The Erasure villain exhaled. "But we should talk about the Tournament." Something ghosted across the blond's expression, but it was gone too quickly for any analysis.

"We should," he agreed after their second round arrived.

_Eight Years Ago_

The final phase of the festival had arrived: the Tournaments.

The finals were always one-on-one competitions, although they would switch it up every year. However, when Hi-Ta-Nem-Sei heard about this year's condition, they were shocked. This year they would all have to wear cast-iron weights, equal to their opponent's body weight.

This had never been done before, so although they had basic weight training, they'd never done something so strenuous. Even by looking around at the competition, there were some obvious people they didn't want to fight against.

For a start, the Blood Quirk user. Although he was about the same height as Aizawa, he was a lot bulkier, meaning the weights would put him at an immediate disadvantage. It was clearly an unfair matchup. Lighter students who relied on close combat, like Shouta, would struggle, while those who were bulkier or long distant fighters were 'superior'. A murmur ran through the crowd at the obvious inequity, but the presenter was quick to quell their concern.

_"In the real world, heroes have to work with additional weight all the time! Carrying civilians to safety, moving obstacles, extracting weapons of mass-destruction, you get the picture! All this while still fighting bad guys! The world isn't fair, kiddies, and the burden of some is heavier than others! So, let's see if you end up throwing your weight around, or throwing __**your**__ weight around~! The line ups will be announced and then we'll take a short break for some games!"_

Aizawa waited patiently as boxes were brought around and their lots were drawn. Best case scenario, he'd fight some random student with a similar build and a non-mutation Quirk. Average scenario, he fought someone larger and/or with a mutation Quirk. Worst case scenario, he fought Nemuri or Tensei.

Nightmare scenario: he fought Hizashi Yamada.

He drew his lot right before the blond did, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the number until Zashi nudged him. They silently agreed to share at the same time and they both raised their cards simultaneously.

Aizawa was number one.

Hizashi was number three.

He sighed in relief, although his stomach curled at the idea of being the first match. Shouta would be against whomever had drawn number two, but another glance at the tournament board filled him with dread. In the second round of fights, whoever won Aizawa's match would face whoever won Hizashi's.

"Guess it was only a matter of time," Hizashi murmured beside him. "Well, I'm sorry Sho."

He turned back to him and tilted his head, "For what?"

"How badly I'm gonna kick your butt." The blond winked, but Aizawa rolled his eyes as their names filled out the board.

Round 1: Shouta Aizawa vs. Sekijiro Kan.

He cursed beneath his breath yet was simultaneously pleased with the result. It would feel good to punch that guy…

Round 2: Hizashi Yamada vs. Nemuri Kayama.

A shame. As great as she was, that was going to be a quick match.

They paused for a break while the hosts set up the arena, and students rushed over to talk with he and Hizashi about their 'amazing' Quirks. Aizawa's legs were shaking, but he kept an outward appearance of composure, despite all the questions they had for him.

_Why're you in General? Are you trying to get into the Hero Course? Your teamwork was amazing! How did you plan all this? Your Quirk is so scary! How does it work?_

Shouta couldn't bring himself to say a word, but Hizashi was a natural at fielding these people. The raven-haired boy acted disinterested while the blond was such a ball of bubbliness and excitement that he felt a stub of amazement through his body. Where would he be if Hizashi hadn't found him under that tree their first day? He wouldn't be friends with Kayama and Iida, and his dream wouldn't be so close at hand. Where would he have come in the obstacle course without them? Where would they have come without he and Hizashi?

He was … glad they'd met.

"_Are you all ready, folks?" _called the presenter, voice echoing over the stadium._ "I know we've seen some amazing teamwork, but now our little heroes are working alone! After all, sometimes heroes only have themselves to rely on. Who will stand out, and who will fall behind? Heart, Skill, Strength, Wisdom, Courage: they'll have to display all these things to rise to the top! Now, let's welcome our first fighters!"_

Shouta left the tunnel and approached the raised platform, his fists and ankles sluggish with the cast-iron weights. The Blood Quirk user entered from the opposite side.

_"Well, isn't this a great match up! Firstly we have Shouta Aizawa from General Studies, and man do those weights look huge on him! He will be versing Sekijiro Kan from the Hero Course! These fellas clearly have unfinished business after their scuffle over first place, but let's see how Aizawa handles him without his friends around! The rules are simple! Immobilise your foe, knock 'em out of the ring or force them to give up! Anything is fine, but no removing those weights! Don't worry about the injuries either, cause we've got Recovery Girl here to heal any booboos. However, nothing life threatening, of course! A hero's job is to throw the villains in jail: not kill them!"_

Shouta stood on the raised platform, waiting, eyes glancing over the stands. There were so many people, but Hizashi and Nemuri were nowhere to be seen. They must've been forced into the waiting rooms to prepare for their match, but Aizawa knew they'd be watching him somehow. He wouldn't lose, even though his muscles would soon be aching. He made sure not to move too much before the match began: he'd lose like this if the fight was prolonged.

Kan (he'd finally learnt his name) stood on the opposite side, but was flexing his arms easily to test Aizawa's weight. The tubes from his gloves were clear, but as soon as the bell rang, they'd be red. This guy was strong, and would be trouble even without his Quirk, but Shouta wouldn't lose.

He was going to become a hero with Hizashi, and this guy wouldn't stand in his way.

"Thanks for giving up first place," Kan called across the platform. "Maybe if your _'friend'_ had meant so much to you, you shouldn't've left him behind to begin with!"

No, they'd all agreed to complete the minefield on their own merits. Hizashi _had _used his skill to get across: he'd been strategic, quick-witted and courageous. Those skills were just as necessary in hero work as speed, strength and acrobatics.

Aizawa fell into a fighting stance as soon as the bell rang, and the tubes of Kan's gloves turned red. The raven-haired boy didn't give him a chance to do anything, however, as he immediately activated his Erasure Quirk and ran straight for the vampire-wannabe. His arms felt so heavy with the cast-iron rings, but Aizawa's entire future was riding on this victory.

He aimed for his smug face, but Kan caught his arm before the blow landed. Shouta's real target, however, was his leg. His foot connected with the back of Kan's knee. He forced the larger student to involuntarily kneel, and he twisted his arm from Kan's grip. The vampire-wannabe lunged with his fist, but Aizawa dodged and shoved his weight onto the kneeling kid's shoulders, slamming him face first into the pavement, with his arms pinned beneath him.

Kan gasped in shock and struggled against him, but Aizawa used the heavy weights to his advantage, pinning the boy to the ground. His eyes felt dry, but he refused to blink. Hizashi was watching him, was counting on him, so he wasn't going to-

The Blood Quirk kicked out and caught Aizawa's leg. The ground temporarily disappeared beneath him, but he refused to close his eyes, despite the pain that accompanied his head _rediscovering_ the ground. Kan rolled above him, fist held high.

Hizashi was counting on him.

Aizawa curled his body and pressed his soles against the student's broad chest. His centre of gravity shifted to his shoulders and he rolled his body upwards. All his strength went to his knees as he spontaneously kicked out.

Kan went flying.

Shouta pulled himself up to continue the fight, but it was miraculously already over.

He hadn't even realised how close to the edge they'd been, until he saw Kan pulling himself from the grass, teeth gritted together in stark horror.

_"Outta the ring! The winner of our first match is Shouta Aizawa! Well __**that **__was a quick one! Usually the first is supposed to get the blood pumping, but that was a snooze!"_

Shouta blinked and his hair fell back about his shoulders. It felt like an empty victory, but he went to check up on the Blood Quirk user anyway, who was grumbling as they brushed grass from their uniform. "Should've rolled the other way," Aizawa pointed out as he stopped in front of him, "and you should've pinned my legs. It was a sloppy hold."

For a moment, Kan looked ready to snap, but then an odd calm crossed his face. "I hope you get into the Hero course," he said, catching him by surprise. "I won't accept losing to a General punk, but it won't be so bad if you get accepted. We'll have a rematch."

Aizawa _smiled _and offered his hand to the student. "I'll win next time too." Kan snickered but took his offered gesture – they shook hands and the crowd cheered. "Thanks … for helping Zashi over the field."

"It was all him," he said, glancing into the stands, although Hizashi wasn't there. "People're usually freaked out by my Quirk, but he… Sorry for leaving him. It … wasn't very heroic."

"It's a competition," Shouta conceded, and he no longer felt the urge to punch the guy in the face. "He'll forgive you."

_"Time for our second match!" _announced the presenter. Aizawa could see the stage clearly from his seat, and he was thankful he hadn't sustained any injuries: he wouldn't miss this fight for anything. _"We have the yell-meister himself, Hizashi Yamada from the Support Class! Although he's allowed to bring in any gadgets and gizmos he's designed, he's chosen to opt out of using them for these tournament rounds!" _Shouta watched as the blond entered the field, and the boy was clearly searching for him in the stands. The General student waved and Hizashi offered him a thumbs up. _"He'll be fighting the lovely Nemuri Kayama! This fight breaks my hearts, folks! These kids worked so well together in the last two games, only to now be on opposite sides! Not only that, but whoever wins must go on to fight Aizawa, another of their friends! I can hardly stand to watch!"_

Their cast-iron weights looked even. Nemuri blew kisses at the crowds as she raced for the stage, and Hizashi signalled to her before the fight began. She covered her ears, and he looked out at the crowds with a smile that shone brighter than the sun.

**"Hey," **he called out, voice amplified so everyone could comfortably hear it, **"I'm Hizashi Yamada, and I just want to say a few words to begin, [****_Dear Listeners!]" _**The crowd cheered, eager to hear what he had to say. **"Since I was a kid everyone's told me I'd make a perfect techie, yo! Everyone said I'd excel in the Support Course, and I scored the highest in the written entrance exam for my entire year group, which is amazing since ****_everyone _****in my class is super smart!" **He waved to the stands where the Support students were located and they cheered him on. **"But I have a secret! Teachers, students, audience, Mum, Dad… I know you're watching, and I just want to say… I don't wanna be a techie!"**

Gasps rang through the crowd at the admission, followed by a murmur of questioning. He'd scored the highest test results, so wasn't he satisfied?

**"I don't wanna be a techie, and I don't wanna build support gear either! Don't get me wrong, I l****_ove_**** building stuff, yo, but there's something I wanna do even more than that!" **He paused and Shouta knew his eyes were on him_._ _Just look at me, Sho. Pretend no one else is around. _Hizashi was using his own advice, and Aizawa didn't look away for even a moment. **"Mum, Dad, ****_everyone… _****I'M GONNA BE A PRO-HERO!"**

A roar of approval ran through the audience, louder than anything, and they applauded for him. Despite their attention, however, his eyes never strayed from Aizawa. The General offered a silent thumbs-up, knowing it would be enough to show his support. They'd _both _become pro-heroes.

_"Woah! This kid has dreams! Rock on, lil fella! With a Quirk as cool as yours, I bet you'll become a great pro-hero in no time! But for now you've gotta focus on your match! You both good to go?"_

Nemuri uncovered her ears and nodded. A bell rang across the speakers and the match began.

She flung off her jacket to use her pheromones, but Aizawa already knew who'd win this. Hizashi widened his stance, flicked off his hearing-aids and grinned like the devil incarnate. Kayama covered her ears, as did the audience, but his Quirk really _was _amazing.

Hizashi sang, the song beginning low and rumbling. **_"[I was born in a thunderstorm; I grew up overnight. I played alone, I played on my own, I survived. Hey~]" _**Even though it was far from top volume, the soundwaves sent her pheromones sailing through the air, away from him. His foot tapped out a beat as he imagined a backing track. **_"[I wanted everything I never had, like the love that comes with light. I wore envy and I hated that, but I survived.]"_**

For now, the audience were cheering. This round was a concert for those with distance, but Shouta knew Hizashi was toying with her – he could've ended this in a single scream, but he was showing off his Quirk, just as he'd promised he would.

The weights could've weighed a tonne and it would've made no difference. With his Quirk, Hizashi didn't need to move an inch.

**_"[I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go, where the wind don't change and nothing in the ground can ever grow.]" _**Nemuri ran for him, knowing what was coming, but she'd been trained to handle pain: not discomfort. Her movements were sloppy. In a way, it was like Hizashi had an Erasure Quirk, because her pheromones couldn't hope to reach him. **_"[No hope, just lies, and you're taught to cry in your pillow, but I'll survive.]" _**Shouta could spy Hizashi's perfect smile, and Nemuri leapt away from him, sensing the sudden danger. **_"[I'm still BREATHING, I'm still BREATHING, I'm still BREATHING, I'm still BREATHING!]"_**

Nemuri's feet skidded slowly across the platform, closer and closer to the edge, and she could do little as he reached the pinnacle of the song.

**_"[I'M ALIVVVEEEE! I'M ALIVVVEEEE!]_****" **The pitch grew higher. Even members of the audience cursed in pain, blocked their ears, but Shouta suffered through it. **_"[I'M ALLLLIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVEEEEEEEE~!]_****_" _**She skidded back and nearly fell over at the point-blank yell, but to her credit she remained in the ring. Even so, he had one more to go and he made sure it was **loud. ****_"[I'M AAALLLLIIIIIVVVEEEE~!]"_**

She could no longer stand the onslaught. She lost her footing. The sound waves roared through her and sent Nemuri flying onto the grass beyond the arena, and Hizashi's song ended as soon as she was out. Aizawa watched him as he flicked his hearing-aids back on, but there was a tremble in his body that spoke of some backlash, although the grin on his face told him that Hizashi had yet to notice it.

_"Woah! What a show!" _roared the presenter_. "You'd need ears of steel to withstand an attack like that! Or maybe an Erasure Quirk? Guess we'll find out next round cause you're through, little man!"_

The crowd cheered for Hizashi and he waved at them eagerly, caught up in the moment. His eyes reached for Shouta again, but the Erasure Quirk was quick to gesture at Nemuri, reminding the blond that he should check she was okay before he did any serious gloating. Hizashi was sheepish but ran over to Kayama, helping her stand, and they said a few words and laughed, earning another cheer from the crowd.

The rounds went on and Aizawa studied the Quirks of every other participant. The students were forced to sit with their classes, so he couldn't chat with any of his friends, and even before the match began, they were sent to different waiting rooms.

Shouta paced back and forth as he waited for his time, but it was difficult to strategize. They had sparred without their Quirks often before the Sports Festival, to train for the big day, and while he always beat Hizashi, he didn't know how they'd go in this fight. Shouta would have to end it quickly since the blond knew about his Erasure Quirk's condition: it would stop if he blinked, looked away or had his view obscured.

If he lost sight of Hizashi for a moment, there was a good chance he could end the fight with a single point-blank scream. At the very least, it would leave Aizawa greatly weakened.

They had to put on a show. If the match ended too soon, one of them might not get promoted…

The weights were fitted onto his wrists and ankles, and he felt an odd warmth as he tested them. It felt vastly different to earlier, when he'd carried Hizashi on his back across the finish line, but there was something encouraging about this additional weight – his best friend's weight. His chest fluttered, although he didn't think much of it.

Aizawa felt as light as a feather as he left the waiting room and made his way to the arena.

This fight would change _everything._

* * *

Song: Alive by Sia

Reviews are always appreciated!


	14. A Grave Man

Chapter Fourteen

A Grave Man

"Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.  
I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague a'both your houses!  
'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man  
to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the  
book of arithmetic. Why the dev'l came you between us!  
I was hurt under your arm."  
(Mercutio – Act 3, Scene 1)

They both fell into silence as they reached the point they feared to confront: their fight and the aftermath. Their second round of drinks arrived and although Hizashi sipped his, the taste was non-existent. He knew things were bound to get heated, but this had been smouldering for eight years, and it was time they both confronted **that day.**

_Eight Years Ago_

After his fight with Nemuri, he hadn't planned to see Recovery Girl as he left the stadium unharmed, but then Hizashi spontaneously collapsed in the hallway, wracked by a harsh coughing fit. "Zaza!" Nemuri gasped as she knelt beside him, but was stricken silent when he pulled his hand from his mouth.

Cold shot through him. There was blood between his fingers.

Nemuri took him to see the nurse, who sat him down and kissed him on the forehead to heal him. "You turn your hearing-aids off to fight?"

Hizashi nodded. "It stops me being affected by my Quirk," he explained calmly, although he was shaking. Was there something wrong with him?

She smacked him on the wrist. "Even if you can't hear it, you're still damaging yourself when you use it at such extreme volumes, and I'm not talking about your ears. Your vocal cords were damaged, as were your lungs. You've had no professional combat training with your Quirk, right? If you want to rely on it, you need to learn how to direct it."

"I can," he claimed, "I can throw my voice."

"Then why didn't you throw your voice earlier?"

He cringed. "I haven't been able to throw it at top volume yet… But it'll be okay – I'm gonna get combat training. There's no way they won't let me and Shouta enter the Hero Track after how amazing we've been!" Despite the situation, his cheeks felt warm. Everything had been going amazingly.

"Learn to use your hearing-aids with your Quirk," she said, like it was the easiest thing imaginable. "You need to regulate your volume, and you can't do that if you can't hear it."

He sighed but nodded. "Thanks Recovery Girl." He'd work more on his directional speakers once he was in the hero course.

"When was the last time you had your Quirk reviewed?"

Hizashi ducked his head and grinned sheepishly. "I've had it since I was born, so I've never needed it reviewed…"

Recovery Girl looked concerned. "Come to my office tomorrow after lunch and we'll do a proper review. You don't know what physical effects your Quirk has on your body - that can be dangerous." Well, he was deaf for a start, but he didn't feel like dragging out this conversation. He wanted to see the other matches, and prepare for his own with Shouta.

Soon it was time, and the weights were put around his wrists and ankles. He'd carried Shouta during the cavalry game, but his weight had been dispersed between the three of them. He was heavier than he looked, certainly heavier than Nemuri, but Hizashi caught himself smiling at the prospect.

They had to give this fight everything they had, to show everything they'd trained so hard to achieve. He wouldn't be able to use his Voice Quirk until Shouta blinked, but he could hold his own in hand-to-hand against him for a time. Aizawa would try to end the fight as soon as possible, before the weights got too strenuous and before his eyes got sore, so Hizashi would have to stall it.

He expected to lose, but he'd give this fight everything he had, and, if he got to use his Quirk, the song he'd sing…

He'd sing him a love song.

Aizawa would hate the attention and the speculation, but Hizashi had to tell him how he felt. It would probably fly over Shouta's head, but he was ready to accept that.

He was madly in love with Shouta Aizawa, and he didn't care if he got rejected.

It was time. Hizashi exited the waiting room and made his way to the arena, the feeling of butterflies coursing through his stomach. Oh god, what song would he sing? Should he choose a Japanese song or English? His mother was American, so he'd grown up with mostly English music in his household, and he knew Shouta had been taught English from a young age, but would it be more meaningful if it were in Japanese? No, would it be more meaningful in English?

The suspense was killing him! He'd just follow his heart in the heat of the moment and sing whatever came to mind when he looked at Shouta.

_"Welcome to the start of the second rounds, ladies and gentleman! This match is looking to be an interesting one! Get ready for Shouta Aizawa vs. Hizashi Yamada! A General studies student vs. a Support course student! Not only that, but these two seem to be great friends, as Aizawa gave up first place in the race so they could finish together! Can their friendship survive this horrific matchup? Only one way to find out!"_

Hizashi walked up the steps and his heart fluttered at the sight of Shouta. The crowd was cheering for them, but the blond only had eyes for the other. "Do your best," he said softly, and the General student nodded.

"You too."

Hizashi grinned and Shouta smiled and the bell rang out to signal the beginning of the end.

For the first time in his life, the blond was on the receiving end of the Erasure Quirk. The sight was ethereal, with Shouta's red eyes and floating hair – even his collar waved, as if caught by a breeze. It was breathtaking.

Literally.

Hizashi tried to breathe in, to prepare for a song, but he _couldn't._

_What?_

Shouta punched him. Pain coursed through his face and his body skidded across the pavement, but there hadn't been enough force to knock him out the ring.

"Cat got your tongue?" Shouta said, but Hizashi barely noticed as he fought to breathe. "Come on, don't go easy. Fight me."

The blond struggled to his feet, body lurching as he successfully avoided several blows, but he was too distracted to keep it up.

Why couldn't he-

Erasure. Erasure was keeping him from breathing!

Shouta had finally sensed something was wrong, as had the judges, but he looked _confused _and _scared_ and _desperate._

"Fight back, Zashi!" he beseeched, at a complete loss. "What're you doing? If you don't show how great you are, they won't… You won't…_We_ won't…" His Erasure Quirk didn't relent.

_"Hey, is that kid okay?" _asked the commentator. _"His face is-"_

Shouta kicked Hizashi in the gut. Saliva flew from his mouth at the force, but still no oxygen entered or escaped. "Fight me!" the other boy cried. "You promised! _We_ promised! Fight me!"

Hizashi _couldn't. _Why didn't Shouta stop using his Quirk? Because he was giving the fight his all, just as promised, and Hizashi just … **_couldn't_**_._

He had to surrender.

If he didn't surrender, he'd **_die_**.

He lifted his hand, to signal his end, but something firm caught his palm. Hizashi tried to cry out in pain as his hand was crunched into the cement, his long fingers ground beneath Aizawa's heel.

He felt them snap like sticks, but he couldn't make a sound.

_"Woah kid! Time out! I think he's given up!"_

"FIGHT ME!" Aizawa roared and Hizashi was kicked across the pavement. For a moment he could breathe – he must've blinked – but it was only for a moment and did little to alleviate his oxygen deprivation. "YOU CAN'T KEEP YOUR PROMISE IF YOU DON'T FIGHT ME!"

Hizashi tried to stand, and Aizawa let him, but he collapsed to his knees shortly after. He could taste blood, and his hand coursed with unbearably agony. Panic surged through him as he tried to surrender again. His lungs were far beyond their limit. Everything was going black.

He couldn't get out of Support if he didn't fight, but if he didn't give up, he'd be _dead._

"STOP!" called the teacher and a giant wall sprouted between them.

The grip on his lungs vanished and he inhaled so desperately he nearly choked on the air. He wanted to scream – in pain, in agony, in frustration – but he was too busy inhaling life. Tears stained his face, his glasses were gone, and his entire body ached from the beating.

He couldn't even think of anything besides breathing.

-x-

Shouta stared at the wall, his eyes burning, his gut wrenching and his chest hammering. This couldn't be real. This was all some nightmare: some horrible nightmare he was having as he slept beneath a tree. Zashi would wake him soon, and would give him an earful about how he needed to learn the names _and _the Quirks on the list, but…

He'd promised they'd become heroes together. They'd trained so hard, every day. This was supposed to be **_the_**_ fight. _They were supposed to show off their skills, their determination, and yet-

Oh shit.

Was Hizashi okay?

He deactivated his Erasure Quirk and tried to move beyond the wall, to check on his best friend, but the teacher took hold of his shoulders before he could. Aizawa tried to struggle, but then he heard it…

The audience.

Everyone was screaming and cursing and howling.

"_YOU MONSTER!"_

_"FUCKING HEARTLESS BASTARD!"_

_"VILLAIN!"_

Everyone watched him and everyone **_hated_**_ him._

"No," he whispered, his body shaking. "I didn't… I wouldn't…"

Oh fuck.

What had he done? He'd given the fight his all, but Hizashi…

He saw Recovery Girl rush onto the platform and he successfully slipped from the teacher's grasp. Aizawa ducked beyond the wall and immediately froze at the sight that greeted him.

Hizashi was lying on the ground, violently gasping for oxygen while tears streamed down his face. The sound was so pained, so incoherent, and Aizawa knew _he'd caused this_.

He'd nearly killed the person he most wanted to protect and everyone had seen it.

The teacher grabbed him again and dragged him from the arena. As they were going, something hit him in the head – a water bottle – and more garbage was thrown at him until the teacher raised a ceiling above. The commentator tried to calm the crowd, but Aizawa knew it was all for nothing.

His flimsy dream had been dashed by fearful spectators and howls of execration.

_Their dream was_ **_dead._**

_Present Day_

"I was banned from the tournament," Aizawa said softly, unable to look at Hizashi. "Was nearly expelled too, but my teachers vouched for me. Bet they wish they hadn't - my grades plummeted."

Those had been dark days. He'd ended up staying in the school dorms since he couldn't show his face in public after that. If the media weren't trying to swarm him, it was the citizens who'd berated him for 'ruining that poor kid's dream'.

His own dream had been ruined too, but he was just a villain.

Tensei and Nemuri had tried to comfort him, but he'd pushed them away – he'd pushed _everyone _away. There was no way they could put him on the Hero track after what he'd done.

"Why didn't you advance?" Aizawa asked. It was a question he'd had for a long time.

"Wish I could say it was for a noble reason," Hizashi murmured as he sipped his beer, "but in the end it wasn't my choice. Apparently I had a 'weak' constitution – too weak to be a hero. My Quirk is connected to my lungs, meaning I can't breathe without it. They said if I ever went up against a villain with an Erasure Quirk, I'd be dead in seconds. I was just as trapped in Support as you were in General…"

A weak constitution… He'd never heard anything more ridiculous! Tonnes of heroes were rendered useless against an Erasure Quirk, and yet they weren't banned.

Besides, Present Mic had no trouble dealing with his Erasure Quirk, so someone as smart as Hizashi could-

Aizawa nearly choked on his gin and tonic.

"You okay?"

He looked at Hizashi Yamada but did his best to hide the odd thought. "Accidentally inhaled," he lied as his brain chugged over the unexpected connection.

Hizashi Yamada … and Present Mic?

Both had blond hair, although it was difficult to gauge the length comparison since Mic gelled his up while Zashi wore it down. Their body types were the same, if not their taste in clothing, and they had the same tendency to sing English songs and add English words to their speech. Oh, they were both techies too, and Mic had insisted he avoid targeting Nemuri, and their vocal Quirks were … identical.

There was plenty evidence against it too. For a start, Hizashi Yamada didn't have an evil bone in his body. Petty and histrionic, yes, but not _evil. _And where would he have found the time to be Present Mic between working his three jobs, while_ also_ juggling his boyfriend-of-the-day? He fucking worked for _Hero HQ! _There was no way he was secretly a villain while working for them.

Besides, Aizawa had been forced to rescue him when Mic's platform had exploded and-

He paused.

His knife. Present Mic had found his knife and returned it without asking for compensation or explanation. He'd been in that area too, just like he and Hizashi had been, and-

"Well," said the blond, severing him from the thought, "it won't change anything now, but I understand if you wanna apologise." His mind returned to the sight of Hizashi sitting across from him, tapping his mug and glancing away, far too casually. Was he being serious or was he toying with him?

"Apologise?"

"You know, for nearly suffocating me in front of thousands of people on live TV, ruining our chances of ever becoming pro-heroes and then blaming it on me." He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it all meant nothing.

Bitterness swirled in his stomach. "I'll apologise if you do."

Hizashi looked startled as he turned back to him, his moustache rising with his disbelieving grin. "Why do _I_ need to apologise? It was_ your_ fault, and _you _blamed _me."_

"You threw me under the bus," accused Aizawa, pushing his drink to the side. "When the reporters talked to you about it, you never tried to explain what'd happened. You hogged the spotlight and played the victim like I was the villain! What I did was an _accident, _Zashi, but what you did was on _purpose_."

Hizashi gaped. "I did _not _throw you under the bus! I just gave a few interviews so I could explain everything! It's not my fault they twisted my words!"

"Then why say anything at all? They're vultures! You poured gasoline on the fire, Yamada, because you're an attention whore, and _I'm_ the one who burned!"

"I tried setting everything right that day we saved Heater!" the blond accused and his stomach clenched.

"What're you talking about? You didn't try to set _anything_ right! We kissed!" It seemed so taboo to say it, but Aizawa couldn't stop himself. "We kissed, Hizashi, and then we both ignored each other for seven _fucking _years!"

"You kissed me first!"

"And you kiss me the second time!" People were staring at them, but all Aizawa could focus on was the blond. "You didn't… You didn't try to set anything right, Yamada. If you'd told me back then that you'd wanted to talk, I would have talked, but you just took Heater and left and I've never even seen her since!"

"I never said you couldn't see her! Just tell me you're sorry and that it wasn't my fucking fault! You know how shitty it was, right? 'You should've been stronger'? Those words fucking hurt, Sho! And then, at the reunion, you threw them back in my face! So, you wanna set things right? Tell me you're sorry."

He ground his teeth together. "I'm…"

He _was_ sorry.

He was sorry he'd spent years of his life as 'that horrible kid who'd almost killed that really nice kid'.

He was sorry he'd pushed everyone away because he'd been terrified of hurting more people he cared for.

He was sorry he'd been so _desperate _to prove they could both become great heroes, that he'd done something _stupid _that he'd regretted for _years._

He was especially sorry he'd blamed Hizashi, because he'd been _terrified _of being around him once he found out his Erasure Quirk could potentially _kill him._

"I'm…" But none of that came out. "I'm going." He pressed some money on the table for the drinks, but was stopped when a warm hand grabbed him by the wrist.

_"[I'm sorry],"_ the blond relented, but didn't look at Shouta when he spoke. Aizawa was speechless. "I'm sorry for everything, okay? I'm sorry for everything I said to the media, and I'm sorry I have a fucked up Quirk, and I'm-"

Fuck. "No, stop, don't-…" He exhaled. It was almost like Hizashi's hand had soaked away his anger, leaving him empty. "I_… _I_ am _sorry," Aizawa forced himself to say, "for _everything. _I started this… It was my fault, okay? You… You don't have a fucked up Quirk, Zashi…" His heart was hammering and he felt like _shit. _"I'm _sorry. _I nearly killed you, and that must've been terrifying, and … I pushed you away on purpose and… I said the worst thing I possibly could._"_

Hizashi looked up at him and _smiled: _it was small and soft and genuine. His grip slipped down to Aizawa's hand, and a soft thrum started from the contact. "The worst part was that I lost _you."_

Aizawa paused and stared at that smile. He remembered how, during his riling speech about becoming a pro-hero, Hizashi had stared at him. Shouta had relied on the blond so much back then that he'd never imagined that Hizashi relied on him for anything, but… Maybe he'd been wrong.

Maybe he'd been so stupidly wrong, that Hizashi Yamada had become a villain too.

_That's the difference between being a hero and being a villain, babe. A hero chooses the path: a villain accepts it._

Aizawa swallowed but didn't release Hizashi's hand as he helped him from the booth. He felt so empty. "I'll walk you to the train station."

If Hizashi really was a villain, the question to ask wasn't _why - _it was **_when?_**


	15. Another Sin

Chapter Fifteen

**Another Sin**

**_"Good gentle youth, tempt not a desp'rate man,  
Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone,  
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,  
Put not another sin upon my head,  
By urging me to fury: O be gone!"_**_  
\- Romeo (Act 5, Scene 3)_

Clouds were gathering in the distance, but the weather held for now. The walk to the train station was quiet, but Aizawa didn't release his hand and Hizashi didn't mind one bit. The innocent act of affection sent naive butterflies coiling in his chest, and it almost made him feel like that child beneath the last cherry blossoms again…

He hadn't _really _wanted an apology, but he'd needed to do _something _to force Aizawa from his shell. Sometimes to correctly heal a bone it had to be re-broken first, so he'd played the petty card. Shouta's accusations _had _genuinely riled him, however: the man had no clue what Hizashi had gone through after their disastrous fight.

If Hizashi had thrown him under the media bus, it was only because Aizawa had deserved it…

_Eight Years Ago_

That night, Hizashi Yamada sat in the infirmary, dazed and confused. He continued to breathe heavily, vowing to never take another breath for granted again, although he was exhausted from Recovery Girl's healing Quirk. His hand was wrapped in firm bandages where his fingers had been broken, and several of his ribs were cracked too, but you couldn't exactly wrap bandages around those, so he had to lie in bed and take it easy while his body's energy replenished.

Recovery Girl eventually entered his room with a medical chart held between her small, wrinkled hands. "I have the results of your Quirk review here," she said, gesturing to the clipboard. "It's clear now why Aizawa's Quirk had such an odd effect on you. You were born with your ability, which usually isn't the case with Emitter Quirks, unless…"

He swallowed. "It's also a Mutation Quirk?"

"Not exactly, but it has definitely altered your body's natural state." She showed him a diagram of his torso. "Your Quirk has mutated your vocal cords, making them far more sophisticated than a normal human's. I checked the records of both your parents. It appears you get the vocal cord changes from your father's Mimic Quirk, but the lung focus is from your mother's Volume. When Aizawa used his Erasure on you, it stopped the use of your vocal cords _and _your lungs."

"It's fine," he said, more forcefully than intended, "I'll just train with him so I can fight without breathing between blinks."

She shook her head. "While your lungs are certainly more capable than a regular person's, you won't need to fight without breathing. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Yamada, but both you and Aizawa are banned from the competition. Kayama and Kan fought instead."

He stared in shock. "Why?"

"You were trying to surrender, but not only did Aizawa stop you, he nearly _killed _you on live television. We cannot condone something so severe. They're still debating whether he should be expelled, but whatever decision they come to in that regard, it's already been decided that neither of you can enter the Hero track."

It felt like he'd been kicked again. He inhaled as deeply as he possibly could, filling his lungs until his broken ribs ached. "Why me? Why can't _I_ become a hero?" It was selfish, and he knew it. It'd been Shouta's dream as well, and they'd promised to become heroes _together_, but…

"They've already decided they don't want to risk it," she told him gently. He shakily exhaled, his chest deflating as her words continued. "You scored the highest results in the written exam, and all your teachers agree you're perfect for the Support course. Charismatic heroes are a dime-a-dozen, but charismatic techies? Interpersonal skills are highly valued at Hero HQ, and they feel there are enough pro-heroes out there, especially considering your weak constitution."

"My 'weak constitution'…?" he echoed, his mind disbelieving. "Didn't they see me in the other rounds? I don't have a 'weak constitution'! _[I'm amazing!]_" He was shaking violently and tears were burning his eyes.

"They claim you were too interdependent on your friends, even citing how you couldn't cross the finish line by yourself. You also hurt your comrades during the Cavalry game, and yourself during your match with Kayama. You do have an amazing Quirk, young man," she added as she held out some gummi bears, "but there's nothing wrong with being in Support. It's for your own wellbeing."

Hizashi took the lollies but stared at them silently.

He didn't _want _to be a techie. He wanted to be a hero with Sho, and Nemuri, and Tensei. He wanted to sit with them in class, go on fieldtrips together, stand side-by-side at graduation and…

Shouta… How was Shouta? Oh god, Shouta…

They kept Hizashi on school grounds for a time, to spare him from the reporters. Apparently he was famous, but all he could think about was how pained Shouta must've been without him. The school had dashed their dreams, yet everyone blamed Aizawa. It had been an accident, and he knew it.

He tried to find Shouta, and eventually…

There he was, leaning against their tree, his face shrouded by shadow. Hizashi was in agony with his cracked ribs and broken hand and dark bruises, so much so that the horror of everything must've clung to his clothes, but despite that he'd approached Shouta with a _smile._

It almost killed him –**he**** had almost killed him** \- but he _smiled_ for _Shouta_. All-Might always smiled, so Hizashi would do the same.

If he pretended everything was okay, it _would_ soon be okay. He needed to talk to Aizawa about everything, to sort out their new plan. Hizashi wasn't about to give up on his best friend, on the love of his young life, and he wasn't about to give up on their promise either: Together they'd become heroes.

Shouta turned to glance at him as he approached, his eyes dull and his face completely blank. He had to be hurting too. Deep inside, Shouta was in agony too, right? Hizashi was the one covered in bruises, with broken bones, but he wasn't alone in this pain… _right?_

"Sho…" he said softly, voice nearly cracking. His agonising smile didn't relent.

Then Aizawa said it: those four words that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Those words that would inspire every bad decision he'd ever make, which had hurt him more than any punch, that had suffocated him more than his Erasure Quirk ever could.

"You should've been stronger."

Those words were cemented between them, thicker than the wall of the arena, and Aizawa calmly walked away. Hizashi had wanted to follow him, had wanted to discover the meaning behind the undeserved cruelty, but how could he doubt their meaning when Hizashi believed them too?

_You should've been stronger._

He leaned against the tree, lest his legs give way beneath him.

Shouta hated him.

Shouta **_hated_** him and he had never felt so alone…

No. He wasn't alone.

He pulled himself from the tree, his chest aching more than any broken ribs could hope to accomplish.

_You should've been stronger._

Hizashi marched directly to his destination: the front gates of the school. He could hear people chattering beyond, and something _else _stirred in his chest that made his heart thrum. As he exited the gates, he was almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of reporters, all waiting for him, but what really took him by surprise was the stunned silence.

If Shouta didn't want his smile, then he'd give it to _everyone else_.

Cameras were on him in seconds, their microphones pressed so close he could smell their metallic scent, and all eyes were on him. The bandage was in place and he felt temporarily whole.

"Mr. Yamada!" one reporter called above the others. "What's your current condition?"

He waved his bandaged hand. "Still healing up, but it's okay! I have way more non-broken bones than broken ones!" He laughed and they laughed, although he didn't hide the pained flinch as his ribs angrily throbbed. "Ouch, but the broken ones definitely hurt!" His grin never faltered.

"Are you going to become a pro-hero?"

He winced. "No, I don't know if they'll ever let me now. They think I have a 'weak constitution', _[Dear Listeners]. _But that's okay, cause I'm gonna become the best techie in the world!" He struck a resolute pose, his head held high, and they all cooed over his optimism. "_[I'm super cool, no matter what!]"_

"What about Aizawa, the one who nearly killed you? Has he been expelled?"

"_[No]," _he said, and for a moment everything paused as his last ounce of logic warred inside him. He shouldn't say anything about Shouta. They would drag his name through the mud, and ruin his life, but…

But, then again, he should've been stronger…

"Not sure how he is," he said honestly, "but he didn't visit me _once_ in the infirmary! _[So rude!] _Don't think we're on talking terms, _[Listeners], _which is sad cause I love to talk!"

"You'd really wanna talk with someone who nearly killed you? He's more like a villain than a hero!"

"I don't care who I talk to," Hizashi said, perhaps far too honestly, "as long as they'll listen!"

Unbeknownst to him at the time, someone _had _been listening…

He went home that night, back to his parents and their small apartment. They held him and told him they'd support whatever he wanted to do, but he told them it was fine – he didn't want to be a hero anymore. However, when he went to bed, he curled up on his flimsy sheets and sobbed uncontrollably into his arms. Why was he so weak?

_You should've been stronger._

Despite the brave face he put on for everyone else, Hizashi just couldn't force it anymore. This was undoubtedly the lowest point of his entire life…

That was when he first met _them…_

A black vortex coursed around his body. He tried to cry out, but before he could he was in a vacuous world of ink. Then he was on hard floorboards, in a room filled with candles and the pungent reek of alcohol.

Before him was a man made of purple mist and a man with a devilish grin.

"Welcome, Yamada," the mist-being said politely as he offered him a ghostly hand.

The other one pulled out a cigarette as he eagerly said, "We're here to talk, kid, if you're able to listen…"

Hizashi's name was everywhere. No matter where he went, people would stop him on the street and tell him he was their inspiration. He was such a brave young man, to stay so cheery despite the horror he'd gone through. The validation he received from their attention was a decent substitute for the joyful thrum he'd felt around Shouta, which was perfect since he didn't see him anymore. His grades never slipped, and he remained just as close with Nemuri and Tensei as he had before, although his entire dynamic had changed. _Everyone _wanted to be his friend – well, _nearly _everyone, but who cared about a delinquent General student anyway?

He was invited to every party, every rave, and he soon found his love for DJing. Hizashi was popular with love too – he lost track of how many girlfriends he'd had, although at this age they were only innocent dates. He loved the_ thought _of being with others, of having someone who would always listen to him, who thought he was amazing and smart.

The second year began, and his revelation came: maybe he hadn't had feelings for Shouta just because he was Shouta…

Hizashi was gay and he couldn't keep that epiphany secret for long.

Amazingly, his popularity went untarnished, and he became a voice for other students. No more girlfriends, but still plenty of boyfriends.

As his popularity grew in the open, however, so it did behind closed doors.

In the shadows, Hizashi had been dragged into the world of SYN: The Synthetic Syndicate. His decision to join hadn't been a difficult one, as an invitation to the group only had two outcomes. Either you became a member, or you died.

Even so, he didn't hate it. If anything, it made his ego only swell. The SYN higher ups had needed a UA student as a spy, and out of _everyone_, they'd selected _him. _Really, it was an honour, and he hadn't hesitated for even a moment.

People _listened _to him.

They wanted to know everything about his classmates – their Quirks and their weaknesses – and Hizashi was an open book. He got paid for it, which was new. He hid the wealth from his parents, however, and Kurogiri helped him sort out a secret account. Giran took him under his wing too, helped sharpen his deductive skills and his information gathering, and if all went well in the future, the man promised to train him completely.

Before that, however, it was time for his true initiation.

He had to recruit someone else.

Hizashi's mind wandered a lot that day as he tried to decide who would be interested in the world of villainy. Tensei was an instant no; Nemuri too.

He shook his head to clear it and went to check the contacts in his phone, when he froze.

The background was unchanged: it was he and Aizawa sitting beneath the cherry blossom tree on their first day. A tender thing lightened his chest, and the contacts list was completely forgotten. At lunch that day, he made sure he sat in a place where he could see Shouta.

The General student sat alone in the corner of the lunchroom, poking his food more so than eating it. Hizashi smiled to himself as the butterflies swirled.

Despite every shitty thing that'd happened, and the fact they hadn't said a word since back then, he was still somehow in love with him.

This was it. This was how they'd be together. They'd failed at becoming heroes, sure, but now they could become _villains _together! Hizashi would prove he was stronger!

He could imagine it now, them side by side again as they raced through back alleys and lurked in the shadows. Kurogiri would like him, and Hizashi would teach him how to deal with Giran so he could be considered a friend.

Weeks flew by as he built the profile for the higher ups at SYN. He used the skills he'd honed in the shadows to find out _everything _about Shouta Aizawa, and when he finally presented it, he was given instant approval.

If Aizawa accepted, they'd be together again.

If he refused, he'd be killed.

But there was no way he'd refuse once Hizashi asked him. He'd approach him tomorrow, and everything would be put right in the world.

_Present Day_

They reached the station, and Hizashi turned back to Aizawa with a coy smile. "You know, you could come back to my place. Nemuri has hero work so she probably won't be back for a while, and you'll get to see how much Heater's grown."

Confliction crossed Shouta's face – Hizashi certainly knew how to pique the interest of the cat lover – but he shook his head. "Not tonight… but maybe some other time." He scratched his neck sheepishly. "We should do this again, Ya-… _Zashi_. We still have a lot to talk about."

Hizashi laughed a little. "Next time, let's talk less about the past and more about the present, okay?"

A dry smile lit up Shouta's face, and the sight of it filled him with joy. "Okay," he said softly and pulled out his phone. "Number?"

Hizashi nodded and swapped it with his own phone as he said, "Only if you promise to call." They typed their numbers in, but Shouta paused oddly at something. "You okay?"

The man offered back his phone and nodded, but still appeared _off. _"Yeah. I'll see you soon. Get home safely." Hizashi thanked him automatically, but his mind was racing. Had Aizawa seen his recent calls? Had he recognised Giran's number? No, Giran would've given him a different number, right? Or what if-

"I can explain," he argued weakly.

Shouta shook his head. "Let me guess: feeling nostalgic after the reunion?"

Hizashi paused as his mind clicked into place. Oh, he'd seen his phone background … Awkward. "Caught red handed," he lied. He didn't need to tell Shouta it had been his phone's background for eight years now. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I can change it."

Fear filled his chest at the prospect of replacing it, but this was unfounded as Aizawa shook his head. "Do what you want…" It looked like he wanted to ask something else, but whatever it was went unannounced as he shook his head again and instead said, "I'll see you soon."

Hizashi smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, but Aizawa stepped back before he reached. The Erasure villain wasn't subtle enough to make it appear like an accidental avoidance. The atmosphere dampened, and there was a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Soon it would pour.

Hizashi pretended nothing had happened, however, as he stepped away from the only person he'd ever truly loved. "I'll see you soon, Sho. I don't plan to waste another eight years."


	16. Let Lips Do What Hands Do

Chapter Sixteen

Let Lips Do What Hands Do

"O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do:  
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.  
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.  
Then move not while my prayer's effect I take."  
\- Romeo and Juliet (Act 1, Scene 5)

The train carriage was mostly empty at this hour, which was rather nice for Hizashi as he arranged his thoughts. He'd call Giran once he was home and would have Kurogiri transport him straight to the bar to save time.

He was surprised Aizawa had turned down the chance to see Heater after all this time. Besides the photo he'd shown in the bar, the bouncer hadn't seen the feline since he'd rescued her from that tree all those years ago. Right, the day he'd planned to approach Shouta and convince him to join SYN with him… His mind drifted as he stared out the long windows of the train, with his eyes trailing along the tall power cables. He let himself slip into the past once more…

_Seven Years Ago_

The next day, it was raining. The sixteen-year-old couldn't find Shouta in the hallways, where he'd usually be at that time, so Hizashi went searching for him alone, running the boy's routine through his mind. He had zero luck, until…

The blond glanced out a window and saw Shouta Aizawa standing in the rain, staring up at the tree where they'd first met.

His breath hitched in his throat, but his mind eagerly buzzed as it told him how perfect this was: Aizawa was alone. Class had begun, but he successfully ducked out with very little issue – he was the class representative and the teacher believed everything he said.

Hizashi hurried from the safely covered halls into the cold day beyond. A wind blew the rain across the gardens, sending a dreadful chill through his clothes, and the sky had been suffocated by lifeless clouds.

He carefully approached Aizawa, the rain blurring his vision and rolling down his glasses, but he was shocked when the boy unexpectedly _climbed the tree._

Hizashi reached the trunk and glanced up, just as he heard branches snapping. A dark shape came falling down. He tried to catch Aizawa, completely forgetting how skilled the other was, but Shouta grabbed the lowest branch with one free hand and swung himself down without injury, landing on his feet like a cat. Hizashi stared, his chest hammering, and his face felt warm despite the cold rain that left him drenched.

Shouta straightened up and glanced at him, his eyes wide with surprise, but Hizashi's attention fell to his chest. He saw a small feline face, its fur completely soaked through from its time spent stuck in the tree, although Aizawa was using his jacket to shield it from the rain. "Za-… Yamada?"

He didn't know how to react to the sound of Shouta's voice, so he tried to focus on the situation instead. "There's a heater in the photocopy room," he said quickly. "No one will be there. Come on, it's this way." Hizashi was almost amazed when Aizawa _actually followed him_, clearly desperate to get the kitten someplace safe and warm. The photocopy room was always kept extra toasty, as the machines tended to malfunction if they got too cold, and as predicted there was no one around. "Wait here – I'll fetch some towels."

Hizashi raced towards the janitor's closet and procured the spare towels, although he didn't stop to dry himself in the process – Shouta and the kitten were his immediate concerns. He went back to the room and was almost amazed to find Aizawa still there, with the cat held close to his chest as he tried to warm it up.

"Here," Hizashi said as he shut the door and dropped the bundle of towels in front of him. The General student took one and carefully dried the feline, but his eyes skittered back to the blond while he worked.

He looked annoyed as he mumbled, "Dry yourself too."

"R-Right." Hizashi grabbed a towel and pulled off his soaking blazer as he tried to wipe away the excess dampness.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" Aizawa asked, now noticeably looking _away_ from him as he worked some warmth into the mewling feline.

Hizashi sat beside him, his back against the wall, as he reminded himself what he was there to do: he was going to recruit him into SYN. "I was running some errands for the teacher when I saw you in the rain…"

Shouta snorted at the excuse, but his face softened and the blond felt breathless. "Saw this little one in the tree," Aizawa explained. "Couldn't leave her there."

Hizashi couldn't stop himself from smiling as he put a towel on top of Shouta's head. "Dry yourself too… Here." He cautiously towel-dried the General student's hair, and was surprised when Aizawa didn't try to stop him.

Shouta only pulled away briefly to remove his own drenched blazer. "Hearing-aids okay?"

Hizashi blinked in surprise at the question. He'd remembered. "I've got new ones now that're a bit more water resistant. _[Super pricey though.]_" His heart was hammering away as he continued to dry his ex-best friend's hair. "Look, Sho, there's something I wanna talk to you about…" Shouta looked at him, clearly unsure, but prepared to listen.

The words caught in Hizashi's throat.

Shouta Aizawa? A _villain? _What had he been _thinking?_

Shouta was a natural hero, unlike Hizashi. Here he was, caring for a kitten he'd rescued from a tree, and the blond was still considering recruiting him!

But he _had_ to! He'd already submitted the file! If _he_ didn't recruit Aizawa, someone else would, and…

Hizashi swallowed. "What're we gonna do with it?"

Aizawa's shoulders visibly slumped, as if he'd expected the blond to say something vastly different, but he didn't ignore the relevant question. "I can't take her home…" he admitted carefully. "I'm not allowed pets."

Hizashi offered him a reassuring grin. "I can. My parents might not like it, but if I promise to take care of everything, they'll let me. Would that be okay?" Relief ghosted across Shouta's face, but he pretended to give it some thought before he nodded, and Hizashi added, "We should name it."

"I'm bad with names…"

Hizashi snickered. He'd barely noticed the gaping maw in his life without Shouta until now. The black hair was soon dry, and the blond let the towel rest around the boy's shoulders. "I've got it! Let's call it 'Hi-Ta'!"

Aizawa tensed. Hi-Ta: the first syllable in Hizashi's name and the last in Shouta's. He swallowed, and roughly said, "Whatever…"

"Sounds like the English word _[heater] _though…" Hizashi mulled it over thoughtfully, and then grinned. "We'll call it Heater!"

"…That's a _terrible _name."

"Too bad! Her name's now Heater!"

Shouta swallowed, uneasily. "You'll take care of her…?"

Hizashi nodded, the goofiest grin plastered on his face. "Of course! I love cats!"

Without warning, Shouta Aizawa grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a **kiss**.

Their clothes were cold and clammy, but their skin was warm as their lips linked together, almost perfectly. Hizashi's eyes widened in shock as that bud in his chest completely blossomed again, and the contact felt like electricity. As silly as the analogy was, to him it felt like they were two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, as if they'd been made for each other.

They parted for just a moment, shakily, but Hizashi refused to give up the feeling. He wrapped his arms around the other sixteen-year-old and pulled him into another kiss.

His slipped his tongue into Shouta's mouth and kissed him with everything he had. The other boy didn't try to bite his tongue off, much to his amazement: in fact, Shouta _kissed him back_.

Hizashi had a lot more experience and it showed, but despite Aizawa's clumsy technique, he never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. His hands buried themselves in damp black hair and he pressed their chests together as the scent of Shouta Aizawa filled his lungs and his warmth clouded his senses.

He was in heaven…

Then he was shoved away.

Shouta's face was red, but his eyes were wide with horror. He opened his mouth, as if to scold him, but the words never emerged as he remembered he'd technically initiated. Wait… had that been Shouta's first kiss?

Hizashi's heart was hammering away, and all he could think about was how desperately he loved him, how his feelings must've been mutual despite _everything_, and how amazing it'd felt to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Shouta again, and again, and _again, _but he didn't test his luck.

_You should've been stronger._

Fuck. Why was everything a mess between them? Would it always be this complicated?

Everything was silent, with neither willing to acknowledge what had just happened. Hizashi picked Heater up tenderly and held her close to his chest, his eyes beholding the small face near him as she gently purred: a small black cat with yellow eyes. "I'll take good care of her..."

Hizashi was a villain. A sixteen-year-old villain, who worked for the largest underground network Tokyo had ever known, and he refused to drag Shouta into that life as well.

He wasn't scared he'd refuse anymore: he was more terrified of what would happen if he accepted…

Aizawa nodded, his eyes focused on the kitten, and conflict crossed his face. Hizashi wanted to tell him he could visit his place any time, if he wanted to ever see how Heater was doing. This cat could be their bridge, the common ground that would gradually restore what they'd lost, but Aizawa still had a future – unlike him.

Hizashi stood, cradling the kitten like a child, and turned his back to him as he picked up his jacket and draped it over his arm. "I'm gonna call in sick and take her home. You should get to class. Tell them you were running late when you saw me puking buckets, and you helped me get a taxi home in the rain. I'll vouch for it. _[Sound good?]_"

"You been practising?" Shouta asked dryly. "Or were you always such a liar?"

Hizashi_ laughed_. His feet felt like lead, but if he stayed, there was no telling what would happen. "Guess I've been practising." With that said he left him, a kitten in his arms, a hole in his life, and an ache in his heart.

He didn't care if he died: SYN would never get their hands on Shouta Aizawa.

_Present Day_

Hizashi arrived home and Heater rushed to greet him, meowing happily, although he knew he'd leave her again shortly. He moved to his wardrobe, found his hidden keypad and typed in his six-digit passcode to reveal the hidden lab just beyond. His villain tech was kept inside, along with his Present Mic costume. He donned both while he dialled a familiar number on his phone.

"_'These violent delights have violent ends'_," Hizashi said into it as he pulled off his shirt and replaced it with his leather jacket.

"_Your date fell through?"_ Giran asked, amusement lining his voice.

"Something like that," he murmured as he slicked the gel through his hair, styling it so it stood up near the front. "You still at Kurogiri's?"

_"Was planning to leave soon, but yeah – I'm still here. You coming?"_

He wiped his hands and pulled on his belt of speakers and his shoulder pads, flicking a small switch so the neon lights flared with life. "I'm coming. Tell Kurogiri to wait for a text. I'm just getting changed."

_"M'kay, kid, I've got the file ready and waiting. You need a drink? Wait, forget the question mark. If your date ended this soon, you need a drink."_

Hizashi snickered as he pulled his mask on and adjusted it until it was perfect. "I'm already two drinks down, but I won't turn down anything if you're buying, old man."

_"See you soon, brat."_ Giran hung up and Hizashi swapped to one of his burner phones, slipping it into his back pocket as he pulled his headphones on and checked himself in the mirror.

As perfect as ever.

He slung his guitar across his back and glanced around the chaotic room. Had Heater snuck into his lab? "Heater," he called, making kissy noises from the doorway. "You in here? Don't wanna lock you in, baby."

"She's in here!" called Nemuri, her voice paired with the sound of the front door closing as she arrived home from work – early. "I'm home!"

Shit. "Welcome home!" Hizashi grabbed his phone and started texting Kurogiri for an emergency teleport, but before he could hit send, Nemuri Kayama entered his room. Her eyes landed directly on him and swept over his full villain attire. Her mouth dropped. He grinned sheepishly. "I can explain…"

"Zaza…" She checked her watch, her face plastered with a frown. "It's _midnight. _Didn't you have a gig? How are you still functioning enough to do villain stuff at this hour?"

Damn, he'd wanted to leave without a lecture… "It's important," he explained as he left his lab, kicking the hidden pedal on the wardrobe to shut the door behind him.

"You have work tomorrow!" she tutted, putting her hands on her hips like a disappointed mother.

"[_I know, sexy lady.]"_ He walked past her, beelining for the kitchen. "I couldn't do it earlier though. I ran into Shouta after the gig, and we met up for some drinks."

She followed him eagerly, not at all questioning what he was planning to do. If she wanted to know _that, _she would've called him Present Mic instead of Zaza.

Nemuri had known his secret for a _long _time. While she wasn't exactly approving, she was understanding of it by now, and only asked he didn't kill anyone – especially civilians. Besides, his secret identity wasn't only useful for him… There was a reason she'd been promoted from a sidekick to a pro-hero so early.

"What happened?" she asked. "I mean, you're still walking, so I guess you didn't have passionate sex yet, but…" She swallowed as she steadied herself. "Seriously though, Zaza, what happened?"

"He beat up some dude who was giving me trouble after the gig, _[it was pretty cool, yo], _and we agreed to have some drinks." Hizashi made himself a quick espresso and downed it in a few mouthfuls, mostly to assure Nemuri he'd have enough energy for villain work. "We talked about the Festival, we argued and then apologised for being total dickbags, and he agreed we'd meet up again soon. But that's not the problem…" He turned to her and exhaled, knowing what was to come. "Shouta is _Eraserhead."_

She blinked at him in surprise, and then grinned toothily. "_Dah_."

He opened his mouth, closed it, and then rubbed his temples. "Right, of course you knew… _How _did you know?"

"Unlike you, I trust my gut instinct. He had the same Quirk, same hair colour, and same body type, so it was pretty obvious to me. You two working together, Present Mic?"

And that was the signal.

He leaned against the counter, mindlessly tapping his boot as he mulled it over. "No way, babe. Eraser hates my guts, but I bet he'd be a great ride~" He licked his lips and grinned. "I'll try my best to keep his nose clean, so _[no debut] _for our Eraserhead. Oh yeah, doll, there's a bigtime drug deal going down in three days time, waterfront district. Big yellow warehouse, you can't miss it, right beside the ocean. Tell your buds."

She sighed. "I'll pass it on. You got protection?"

"Always."

"I trained you well."

"Thanks babe." He pulled out his phone and the message to Kurogiri was ready to send. "I'm off to see a man about a list."

"Just don't be too late, even if you do end up riding Eraser: it's a work night."

He winked, but the action was obscured by his orange lenses. "[_Stay pretty_.]" He hit send and was consumed by a black portal only moments later.

There were a few other customers at Kurogiri's, but they paid him no attention as he sat himself beside Giran at the bar. "Took your time," the information broker said with a grin.

Kurogiri had a drink in front of him in moments, and a sip told him it was watered-down whisky. Giran must've mentioned he'd already been drinking to the bartender, and he was thankful for the kind gesture. "Got held up by an informant," he said with a shrug. It wasn't even a lie. "Got the file?"

Giran slid a USB across the counter, and Hizashi slipped it into his jacket without hesitation. "Saw your old video, where you fought as kids. Was pretty brutal."

Hizashi rolled his shoulders and stole Giran's cigarette from between his fingers, inhaling the smoke until it filled his lungs. As he spoke, he exhaled it, filling the air about him with the deathly grey. "Yeah, but as you know, I can hold my own against him now. Spent eight years training to hold my breath, and my pain threshold's… Well, you already know about that, teach."

The breath training had been simple to try, but difficult to master. Nemuri had trained him in hand-to-hand combat while she'd used her Quirk. It was perfect, really, since he automatically lost if he inhaled her pheromones, so it had been close to fighting Shouta in condition, if not skill.

Now the pain threshold… Well, that had been a lot messier to master…

Giran eyed his cigarette but didn't try to take it back as he placed his index finger against the bar. "Got the list?"

"Always. Ready to memorise?" The man nodded, and Hizashi started down his mental list, the one he'd been giving Giran every year since he'd first been accepted into SYN: a list of all the new first year UA students and their Quirks.

The knowledge was rather harmless, but necessary for the seedy betting circles the broker had a stake in. It was a lot of names to remember, but by now Hizashi had put it down to an art. As he said each name and Quirk, Giran wrote it across the bar's surface with his finger to ingrain it in his own memory.

Just as the list was nearing completion, the bell above the door jingled and Kurogiri called out an automatic welcome. Heavy boots marched across the threshold, but Mic was too lost in his list to focus on anything else, until he noticed Giran pause.

The person sat beside him, and when Mic turned his head, he no longer knew whether to be surprised or not.

"Deal for tech still on the table?" calmly asked the voice of Shouta Aizawa, his handsome face hidden behind his villainous mask.

Present Mic looked him over, chest thrumming with sudden excitement, yet unexpected bitterness. _"[Always for you, babe~]"_ he purred out, but was interrupted by a cough from Giran. Hizashi sighed and clarified, "Or it will be in two seconds. Gotta finish up some work, then we can play all you want~"

Eraserhead grunted, but patiently waited for Present Mic to finish the last few names on his list, his voice low enough so only Giran could hear it. Once finished, the broker stole back his cigarette and finished it with a drawn-out huff. "Okay kids," he said with a grunt, "don't stay up too late. Bet it's already past your bedtimes."

"Whatever," Mic bit back with a smirk. "Don't forget your walker next time, _old man." _Giran sniggered and left, and Kurogiri offered Eraser a drink, but was politely refused. Hizashi leaned closer to Aizawa and pressed their legs together, testing how he'd react. The Erasure villain didn't pull away, and the blond didn't hide his eagerness. "So, tell me exactly what you want, _E-ra-ser-head_…"

"I want tech," Aizawa said simply, "and I don't care what I have to do to get it."

"You kept me waiting long enough…" Hizashi laughed coyly and leaned close to his ear, a sick thrill bubbling inside him – the man didn't push him away. He lowered his voice to a seductive whisper and let his hot, smoky breath caress his neck. Tonight was going to be fun after all. "_[You've come to the right place, ba-by~]"_


	17. Trespass Sweetly Urged

Chapter Seventeen

Trespass Sweetly Urged

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took.  
Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!  
Give me my sin again."  
\- Romeo and Juliet (Act 1, Scene 5)

There it was, that same thrum he felt whenever Hizashi touched him, only now the source was this blond villain beside him, who pressed his leg against his and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. It had to be some sort of act, this villain façade, but…

"You _must _be insufferable," Aizawa mumbled, loud enough for him to hear, "if this is the only way you get laid."

Present Mic chuckled, unoffended, and ran his tongue around the rim of his ear. A pleasurable shiver coursed through his body and something stirred between his legs. "No, you're just lucky."

"Lucky?"

"Of course," Hizashi purred, his voice shifting from the radio voice to one that was female, "lucky that you haven't debuted yet, cause I only have one rule,_ baby_…" An arm slunk around his neck, and Mic's teeth toyed with his earlobe, tugging lightly at Aizawa's small stud piercing. When he spoke again, his voice was a sultry male whisper. "_I don't fuck villains."_

Shouta didn't know whether he should feel angered or pleased by that information, but his body certainly made its opinion known.

"If you wouldn't mind," interrupted Kurogiri, his voice firm and uncomfortable, "I recommend continuing this somewhere else. My bar isn't a brothel."

Aizawa grabbed Hizashi by the front of his jacket and pulled them both to their feet, catching the blond by surprise. "We'll take this elsewhere."

Mic's grin shone through the hole in his mask, framed by the upper beak. "So eager~"

Kurogiri grumbled out, "If he kills you, I'm not getting vengeance because you couldn't keep it in your pants, Mic."

"It'd be worth it," Hizashi said as he wrapped a gloved hand around Aizawa's. "Lead away, _[lover boy]." _The darkhaired man dragged him out the bar and the blond eagerly followed down the steps and through the back alleyways of the district.

A rumble of thunder rocked the air, and something cold pattered against Shouta's skin and ran through his dark hair, forming rivulets down his clothes. Rain. It started off soft and harmless, but was growing harder as they journeyed deeper into the storm.

"I've got a safehouse nearby," Present Mic suggested. "Hotels would get weirded out by our costumes, unless we wanna strip naked right now~ I certainly wouldn't complain, although I bet we'd catch some wicked colds."

It reminded Aizawa of the last time they'd stood in the rain, the same day he'd kissed an innocent (and wet) Hizashi Yamada in the photocopy room. His first kiss. The blond had been dating someone else at the time (Aizawa always kept track) and he hadn't forgiven him for the media shitstorm that'd ruined his life, but he'd been so overjoyed that Hizashi had been talking to him again that he hadn't held back his emotions.

He'd been so alone, in a bleak world, and the blond had burst through the gloom like a ray of fucking sunshine.

Then Hizashi had kissed him back and it'd been_ amazing_.

He'd been with plenty of others since then, but nothing he'd encountered had ever equalled that brief moment.

Maybe this would.

Aizawa shoved Present Mic's back against a wall and pinned him to the bricks. He felt the blond's muscles tense beneath his leather jacket but then relax far too quickly, and that spoke volumes.

Hizashi knew who he was.

"Think I'll fuck you right here," Aizawa murmured as he unclipped the metal mouthpiece from his mask and tucked it into his utility belt. The rain ran down his lips, cold and wet, while the body beneath him shivered at his words.

"In an _alleyway_, in the _rain_… You really know how to treat a guy," said the other man, something withheld in his voice. "Some rules first…"

Aizawa grinned nefariously. "Thought you said your only rule was that you don't sleep with villains?"

"I lied. That's more of a … 'pre-requisite'~" he corrected with his own grin. "Firstly, you don't get to use your Erasure Quirk." Hizashi fumbled with the array of speakers around his waist and carefully lowered them to the ground so they weren't damaged. "I'll gladly choke on your dick, in fact I'd _love _to," he said while pulling their bodies close, "but use your Quirk, and I bite it off."

Aizawa grunted and nibbled at the flesh of Mic's supple neck. "You talk too much."

The blond shivered and tensed beneath him, his hand gripping and pulling at Aizawa's sodden jumpsuit. "Speaking of which…" Mic grabbed his hand and slid it beneath his leather until it rested to the right of his lower back. "Secondly, _if_ you're good, I'll be loud. If I get _too _loud for you to handle, I have a tattoo – a mute button - around here. Pinch it, hard, and I'll be quieter."

Aizawa's fingers lightly caressed the area, even as he roughly gnawed at Hizashi's throat, already leaving marks with his teeth. The skin was cold and clammy as rain ran down, but there was the tang of sweat, undoubtedly residue remaining from the DJing gig. Aizawa's tongue lapped at his jawline, and Hizashi's third rule was stifled by a gasp. He felt the pulse jump happily beneath his lips, and he was only encouraged to press harder.

He buried his hand in short blond hair so he could have better access to his neck, while his other slid down to fondle his ass through the tight leather pants, although his hand became pinned between the cheek and the guitar, which was still slung across Hizashi's back. "Your stuff better be waterproof," he said, earning a breathy snigger in return.

"W-Wouldn't be a great techie if it wasn't…" Something caught against him and he dully realised it was the guitar's strap as the blond tried to pull it off. They parted for the briefest of moments to let it pass, and then he immediately resumed his assault of the man's collarbone. "Fuck," Hizashi purred as he dropped the guitar to the sodden ground, "your mouth is good~"

To punctuate the comment, Aizawa thrust their hips together, earning another needy gasp, especially when he rolled against him. "Done?"

"Third rule," he forced out, bucking his hips against Shouta's while trying to find the zipper on his jumpsuit. "You clean?"

Aizawa pulled away enough to look at him, although his red lenses hid his raised eyebrow. "Your information broker not find my doctor certificates? Not sure about you, but _I'm _clean."

The blond snorted. Was it even possible to offend this guy? "Clean too. Can show you a pic of the certificate and every-" He cried out when Aizawa bit down on his neck, the sound slipping into a moan as he leaned into his teeth. "Oh fuck~ Come on, baby, I want you to fill me 'til I'm leaking~"

He shivered pleasantly at the thought, and he pressed their bodies tightly together – he'd never done it raw before, but Hizashi was the only one he'd ever consider doing that with. The wind and rain were icy against them, but together they were burning hot. Nevertheless, when the blond begged for something like that, it made Aizawa twinge sadistically. "No," he said as he sucked at the bitemarks he'd already peppered across his neck.

"F-Fine," Hizashi conceded as he switched off his neon lights and snaked his arms around Shouta's hips, "but I'm gonna suck you off." Yeah, he _definitely _knew he was Aizawa, although it wasn't clear whether he knew he knew that he knew. "Wanna taste you on my tongue~" The blond purred as their hips rubbed together and Aizawa continued to tease his neck. "Want you, all thick and heavy in my mouth~ Wanna gag on your dick…" He shivered and his voice dropped to a whisper, "Or I would, if I had a gag reflex…"

Hizashi knew how to be persuasive.

Aizawa grabbed the beak of Present Mic's mask and wrenched it upwards as he pulled away from his neck. He stared at the blond's mouth, at his perfect white teeth and his busy pink tongue. The mask was secured tightly around his upper lip, so even at this angle it was impossible to see the small moustache he knew was hidden beneath.

Those lips were right there, the ones he'd had improper fantasies about since that day in the photocopier room. He wanted to kiss him so badly, wanted to slide his tongue between his teeth and taste his mouth, wanted to prove to Hizashi how much more experience he'd had since that first time, but…

This wasn't between Hizashi and Shouta: this was between Present Mic and … (sigh) **_Eraserhead_**.

He shoved him to his knees and caught his jumpsuit's zipper, sliding it down without ceremony. Despite the orange lenses, he could feel Mic's sharp eyes wrapping over his muscles, mapping him, dipping lower and lower until his boxers obscured his destination. Aizawa's other hand was still on the beak of his mask as he tilted it upwards so it wouldn't get in the way. "Well?"

Perhaps it was just rain running from those smug lips, but it wouldn't've surprised him if some of it was drool. Mic's hands ran across his hips, squeezing playfully at his pelvis and his outer thighs. However, there was already a prominent bulge in Eraserhead's boxers, and those orange-lensed eyes were transfixed. The blond's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation, and a gloved hand slowly pressed against it, palming him teasingly through the damp material. "You're already so hard~" he purred.

Eraserhead stifled a moan at the touch, and his eyes focused on Present Mic. The rain ruined his hair, rinsed the gel from the gold and sent strands sticking to his face and neck, confirming the length – just long enough to tie in a short ponytail. He still wore the headphones, no doubt to spare his hearing-aids from the rain's ruinous reach.

Hizashi Yamada: a villain. What a crazy world…

-o-

His head was tilted at an odd angle by Aizawa, who was ensuring he didn't somehow stab him with his mask's beak, but there was something sexy about the roughness. He slipped off his gloves, to ensure he didn't accidentally taser his partner with them. His hand trailed down the line of dark hair that ran from his navel into his boxers, and Hizashi's long fingers followed it inside and freed Shouta's length from the soft confines. He was already so hard in his hand, and so large, despite the cold.

A shiver ran up his spine and his own length shifted uncomfortably in his pants. Fuck, he wanted it in his mouth. He wanted to taste Shouta, wanted to feel him at the back of his throat, wanted-

Fuck, he didn't have to want anymore, because it was right there.

"You're big~" he purred as he moved forward and lapped at the head with his expert tongue, tasting the first hint of saltiness. He coyly toyed with the slit and massaged with his fingers, the shaft already slick with rain. The flesh was so burning hot. He couldn't wait anymore.

Before he could take it in, his head was suddenly pressed back against the wall, with Eraserhead's hand cushioning it from the bricks. "Finally have a good use for that rude mouth of yours."

Despite the dirty words that made his chest purr, Hizashi's quick mind focused on the comforting hand behind his head. The small, tender act was telling.

Aizawa knew who he was.

He knew he was Hizashi Yamada, and he wanted to fuck him anyway. Or … maybe he wanted to fuck him _because _of that.

"Then give it to me, _[lover boy]." _The blond opened his mouth wide, tongue lolling out in anticipation. Aizawa's hot length pressed against his awaiting tastebuds, but he was pinned so firmly that he couldn't bob his head at all. Fuck, he was a tease.

Hizashi's hands pulled tightly at the jumpsuit's fabric as the length slid deeper and deeper into his mouth, as hot and heavy as he'd predicted. It hit the back of his throat, but there was still so much more to take. He wrapped his lips around it and sucked, while his tongue ran against the underside. Eraserhead groaned above him. Fuck he wanted to touch himself, but he held off – it would feel even better later if he was all pent up.

Aizawa thrust in and out a few times, always stopping around the back of his throat, and something primal was coiling in Hizashi's stomach. He hadn't trained himself to hold his breath for ages _and _to suppress his gag reflex to_ not_ put both to good use.

His hands slid to Eraserhead's waist, and he pulled his hips closer into him. There was only a short struggle, ended once the other man realised what he wanted, and for once he was more than happy to accommodate. His cock hit the back of his mouth and then slid into his throat.

Hizashi moaned against it, his leather pants feeling so tight and restrictive as he eagerly sucked at every inch of hot skin he could get. There was still one more inch to go before his face would be pressed against dark curls, but unfortunately he'd have to remove his mask to have any hope of taking it, and _that _wasn't a possibility.

Aizawa thrust harder and more frequently, fucking his mouth with only a hint of restraint. The groans and grunts the man made didn't go unnoticed, despite the sheet of rain and the roar of thunder. Fuck, he wanted him to cum deep inside him.

Oxygen wasn't an issue – he could do this for ages – but his patience was another factor altogether. As amazing as it was to have that dick fucking his throat, he wanted it somewhere else.

He made a muffled sound and moved a hand up to lightly push against Aizawa's solid abs, and he was almost surprised when he pulled away immediately. Hizashi licked his lips, his mouth salty with pre-cum, and he resisted the urge to shove the hard length back down his throat – although he couldn't resist the urge to lick the tip one more time. "Damn, baby, need you to fuck me hard~"

Aizawa pulled him to his feet and pressed him against the wall as he fiddled with his utility belt. To his amazement, he withdrew a small bottle of lube. Mic grinned smugly at the sight of it but was suddenly spun around with his chest pressed against the wall as his pants were tugged down. "Said I'd do anything for tech," lazily explained Aizawa. "Figured you'd want something like this."

He gasped as the cold rain brushed against his burning skin, but if anything, it made his dick twitch needily between his legs. A hand ran down his skin, already covered in lubricant as it circled his entrance mischievously. Such a fucking tease…

Hizashi bucked his hips back, whining needily, but Aizawa wasn't swayed. A free arm wrapped around him and pressed their body's close together, sparing them both from the cold. The blond trembled against him, his skin sparking with what felt like electricity. It was almost infuriating that the only time he felt this way was when Shouta touched him…

Fuck it. He'd make him never want to touch anyone else again.

Hizashi gasped as two fingers entered him, and as they hooked up to rub against his prostate, a concerning thought crossed his mind.

What if, after having Aizawa, no one else could satisfy _him_?

Teeth gnawed at his neck, and his thoughts were interrupted by his own moans. The fingers continued to stroke his sweet spot, the stimulation gradually making his legs quiver with desire, and he rocked his hips against them needily in search of more friction. More bruises were nibbled into his neck and he hoped they'd last for days to come.

A third finger entered and thrust roughly into him, earning moan after moan from the blond as his nails dug into the sodden wall. Aizawa's free hand slipped into his shirt and pinched one of his nipples, and Hizashi's dick twitched at the heightening pleasure. Fuck, at this rate he'd finish without even feeling Aizawa's hot shaft inside him.

As if sensing his burning need, the Erasure villain pulled his hands away, leaving him subconsciously pressing his hips back for more warmth.

Aizawa's length slid across his back and settled in the dip between his cheeks, while he pulled something else from his belt that had Hizashi whining in his throat. "Fuck, baby, forget the condom~" he said as he rubbed back against his length, and he finally gave up on changing his voice – he sounded like Hizashi Yamada, and Eraserhead noticeably paused at the change. "You know I'm not an idiot, and I know you're not either. Fuck, _Sho_," he whined, dropping all pretences, "I need _you_ to fill me up~ Wanna feel your hot dick as you fuck me, wanna drip with your cum, want you to fuck me so good, Sho, until I don't want anyone else ever again~"

Aizawa trembled against him and leaned forward, his lips close to his ear as he whispered, "You sound better like this." He heard the bottle of lube being opened again, instead of the condom packet, and a tongue ran over his ear. "Moan my name."

Hizashi trembled eagerly, yet couldn't resist the urge to shoot him a smug grin over his shoulder as he teasingly moaned, "_Eraserhead~"_

Teeth bit into his neck, hard, and he cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. When he spoke next, the annoyance was hard to miss in Aizawa's gruff voice. "Say _that_ again, and I tie you up like this and let whoever's on patrol decide what to do with you…"

"Least they'd have the decency to not keep me wait- AH~!""

Aizawa thrust inside him, so deep that his hips pressed firmly against Hizashi's cheeks, and his face was shoved against the wall. Trembling arms wrapped around him and held him as tightly as possible. Despite their cold, soaking clothes, together they were unbearably _hot_. "_Fuck," _quietly moaned Aizawa, his masked face digging against his shoulder blade.

"_Shouta~" _groaned Hizashi as he tried to rock his hips back. Fuck, it'd been so long since he'd been with someone this big, and the pressure against his prostate made him lightheaded.

Another tremble wracked through his partner, and then Aizawa was moving. He held back for the first few thrusts, clearly gauging Hizashi's reactions, but each jolt grew harder and harder and the blond couldn't keep himself from moaning as Shouta Aizawa fucked him against the wall. His nails dug into the brickwork and he held on for dear life, afraid of losing himself completely to the pleasure.

Aizawa hit his prostate with every thrust. Hizashi was thankful for the storm, if only for the fact it hid his cries of pleasure from prying ears. Then again, having an audience would probably turn him on at this stage. Even so, he was being _too loud, _and he knew it.

He'd told Aizawa about his 'mute-button', right? Yeah, he had. In fact, the Erasure villain's fingers were tenderly caressing the tattooed area, even as he fucked him hard, and bruised his neck, and pinched his chest. Hizashi raised his voice as he moaned his name and bucked his hips back, yet still didn't feel the sharp pinch he'd conditioned himself to notice.

It was surprising and sweet. He almost told Aizawa to go slower. As desperate as he was for release, he didn't want this to be over. He was fearful this would be the only time.

No, it wouldn't be. Aizawa was in his clutches, and Hizashi wasn't planning to let him go again –not without a fight.

So he forced his hips back, in time with Shouta's thrusts, and continued to cry his name with complete abandon. The rain was getting heavier, but he was too focused on the growing pleasure to notice. The hand that'd been playing with his nipple slipped down and wrapped around his ignored length, the touch burning hot. Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Sho~!" he moaned as those lips sucked a hickey into the back of his neck. "Close~!" His movements faltered momentarily, and then he was pressed firmly against the wall as Aizawa put everything he had into the last few thrusts. They were hard and rough and _satisfying._

Hizashi cried loudly as the hand squeezed around him and he finished against the wall, stars blocking his vision as Aizawa sunk his teeth into his neck and spilled inside him. He was filled to the brim with delicious warmth. The blond's legs trembled, and he would've certainly collapsed had it not been for the strong arms wrapped around him.

To his surprise, Eraserhead didn't release him immediately. His tongue ran against the teeth marks he'd made with the final bite, and he held Hizashi while he regained the feeling in his legs. "You … had a safehouse nearby?" Shouta eventually asked, voice barely audible above the sheet of rain. Present Mic managed to nod, although he couldn't stop himself from gasping as the man pulled out. Thick warmth slid down his leg. "Can you stand?"

While he felt so pleased by the unexpected tenderness, he also felt a twinge of annoyance. _Weak constitution. _"_[I'm okay]," _he insisted, although he wobbled once Aizawa pulled away, and he realised just how cold the world was without his touch. Even so, he didn't complain as he pulled his pants back up and gathered his sodden things.

When he turned back around to face Eraserhead, he was waiting for him, with his jumpsuit already zipped and the metal mouthpiece reattached to his mask.

Hizashi smiled sheepishly and hid the tremble in his legs. "_Well, _I should probably head home. It's late, and I've got work in a few hours, and-"

Aizawa stepped forward and took him by the wrist. His grip wasn't painful, but there was a quake to it that took him by surprise. "Safehouse. _Now."_

Apparently, Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa had _a lot _to talk about.


	18. Night's Candles

Chapter Eighteen

Night's Candles

"Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day  
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.  
I must be gone and live, or stay and die."  
\- Romeo (Act 3, Scene 5)

It was more of an apartment than a house, but the place was in far better condition than Aizawa's own home. It was larger too, with a few rooms attached, although it was cold and unlived in. Present Mic led him to the kitchen and pulled out some mugs and a jar of instant coffee. "Should be towels in the linen cupboard," he said, his voice no longer altered by his Quirk, "left side of the hallway."

Aizawa fetched the towels silently, his ears tuned to the sound of the other villain in case he decided to flee. A few cupboards were opened and closed, but he heard no footsteps. He grabbed the towels and returned to the kitchen, setting them unceremoniously on the bench beside a retrieved sugar bowl. It was blue, with small white dots on, but was otherwise insignificant. The blond went to take a towel, but the Erasure villain stopped him by grabbing his wrist. "Mask," he said, voice rougher than intended, "remove it."

Hesitation ran through the man, and his masked face was turned away. "Already so eager for a second round, baby?" the Voice villain asked as he pulled his hand away. "I promised you tech. So, what do you want?"

"_Hizashi," _he said forcefully, almost desperately, and the blond flinched. "Remove. It."

Present Mic exhaled heavily, but had yet to look at him, even as he pulled at some buckles on the back of his mask. A few short snaps signalled the unclipping of the restraints, and the villain finally revealed the familiar face from beneath the disguise. Glasses, mask and headphones were all set on the bench, and Hizashi Yamada looked to him – small moustache, perfect teeth, sombre emerald eyes. "Happy? Now it's your turn, Sho."

Aizawa had no fancy buckles or clips for a dramatic reveal, so he merely pulled the mask away and dropped it beside Present Mic's disguise. The blond glanced him over but then turned away disinterestedly, returning to making coffee.

Aizawa asked the most obvious question: "Why?"

"What do you mean '_why_'?" Hizashi asked back as he filled the kettle with water and set it to boil. "I told you when we first tried to debut. A hero chooses the path: a villain accepts it. I _accepted_ my path, and I don't mean to brag, baby, but I'm _[great] _at it!"

"You work for Hero HQ, Zashi. You're _not _a villain. You must be some sort of … double agent."

Hizashi turned to him, eyebrows high, his expression unexpectedly _smug_. "Baby, you don't know how _right_ you are on that last point! Here, watch this…" He pulled out his phone – a different one from earlier – and dialled a number. As it rang, he fiddled with his hearing-aid, and the phone grew abruptly quiet – Bluetooth. Hizashi grinned and when he spoke he frequently switched voices in a way that grated Aizawa's ears. _"[Hey Simon, you know that drug deal you're arranging at the docks? Yeah, Monday, that one. Pro-Heroes have discovered the location and are planning to set up an ambush… Well, I'd recommend switching to the downtown district - lots of abandoned buildings. Giran can give you a list, if you're willing to pay his fee. Maybe you've got a traitor – I'd keep the new location on the downlow. Don't worry, I'll be happy to wait at the docks to give the heroes a … surprise. Pleasure doing business with you, sweetie. Take care.]"_

He hung up and his expression was so self-satisfied that Aizawa (_almost_) wanted to punch him.

"You got me, baby! I _am _a double agent, but not for heroes. Wanna know the real reason I dated Power Loader for three years? Information! You wanna know why I still live with Nemuri Kayama? Information. You wanna know why I spend my days doing a job I've grown to absolutely fucking _hate_? Ding-Ding-Ding! I already know you had a run in with my teacher…" An image of Giran ran through his mind, the comparison only reinforced as the blond pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and scowled once he realised they'd been ruined in the rain. He tossed them into the bin and, to his surprise, started to strip. "I'm not just the best techie, Sho: I'm also the best information broker on the market when it comes to selling hero info!" He stripped down to his briefs and wrapped a towel around himself as he finished mixing the coffee.

It sounded impossible. How could Hizashi-

"_When?" _Aizawa asked, knowing the correct question to pose. The memory of Giran re-emerged, and something the man said clicked into place. "_When_ did SYN approach you?"

Hizashi _laughed _and sipped his coffee as he slid Aizawa's mug towards him. "Giran told you more than he should've. The thing about SYN? They recruit you when you're at your lowest, and you _don't_ get a choice."

When he'd been at his lowest…? That would be…

Aizawa _stared _at him in shock, but the blond leaned against the counter and avoided making eye contact. "…Fuck, Zashi…"

Shouta deserved to be a villain for the things he'd done, for the way the world had betrayed him, for how _he'd _treated others, but _not_ that bright eyed fifteen-year-old blond. _Not _that young Hizashi Yamada who'd wanted to become a hero, who'd swept him up with his sheer enthusiasm and his innocent promise.

Fuck.

"Each member is supposed to recruit someone else. Someone saw me on TV and thought _I'd _be a good candidate." He rolled his shoulders, nonchalantly. "Guess I showed off a little too much…"

Hizashi Yamada had been forced into villainy after the Sports Festival, after his best friend had told him he 's_hould've been stronger'. _How scared and alone had that young boy been, without the ability to tell anyone, or…?

That day in the photocopier room with the kitten. That kid with dripping hair, who'd told him he loved cats, who'd been willing to adopt the sodden kitten without question, who'd grinned and _kissed_ him… He'd _already _been on the path of villainy, and Aizawa had been none the wiser.

_Oh baby, I'm more villain than you'll ever be. Tonight might've been my debut, but I've been playing this game for years._

Aizawa picked up his mug and sipped it as he sorted through his emotions. It was sweet – the blond must've added some sugar to it without knowing his preference – but he was too rattled to care. Hizashi's sharp eyes glanced him over, and he stretched against the counter. The blond's supple neck was covered in bites and bruises, but there was a smugness in the way he held his head aloft, like a peacock showing off his feathers. He started to tap his finger on the bench, slowly and methodically.

"Giran said SYN was over. Why _continue_ to be a villain?"

The blond laughed, the sound low and menacing. "In our world, baby, who do you always hear about on the news? Easy: Heroes. However, it's so hard to make it as a popular pro-hero nowadays – there's too much paperwork, too much training, too many conditions… But who'd want to compete with all that competition?" Hizashi pulled himself onto the bench, breath hitching a little – Shouta must've gone harder than he'd realised. The blond's cheeks were red and his mouth was stretched in a villainous smile that he'd never imagined would've looked so genuine on those lips. "I'm a celebrity in Japan, Sho, but I don't get nearly as much screen time as a pro-hero, and I couldn't even hope to compete against the popularity of someone like All-Might. Do you know where All-Might is right now?"

"…America," Aizawa answered, not liking where this was going.

"Exactly! He's all the way in _[AMERICA]_, babe! But he's still on the news _here, _almost every night. I might be beautiful, and funny, and-"

"Completely self-absorbed."

"That too," Hizashi confirmed with a roll of his shoulders. "Even if I did become a hero, I wouldn't get that same level of screen time… However, there is one other profession that outranks the heroes. All-Might is the symbol of hope and peace, but what's stronger than that?"

"…Fear."

Hizashi set his mug down and clapped his hands, his leg resuming the meticulous tapping in place of his finger. "_[Ding-Ding-Ding! We have a winner!]" _He laughed. "I'm going to become a fearsome villain, and on that day, the _entire **world** _will have their _eyes on **me!"**_

He looked almost crazed as he said those words: a histrionic megalomaniac.

Aizawa had become a villain to ruin the system from the shadows. Hizashi had remained a villain so he could steal the global spotlight.

He really _had _become the sort of person Shouta hated most.

"So, what do you want?" Hizashi asked. "I promised we'd design you some tech if you did what I wanted. Trial one down, baby." He wiggled his ass and licked his lips. "Will be feeling you for _days_~ Want a death ray that'll instantly kill everyone? Want some chameleon lenses that'll let you use Erasure in all directions? Want gloves and shoes that'll let you stick to walls?"

The topic had shifted, and Aizawa knew he should've been happy, but he was no longer in the mood for this talk. "Zashi…"

"When we're wearing our masks, I'm Present Mic and you're Eraserhead," he clarified softly. "Any other time? We're Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa. However, if we're in this safehouse, we can be both. _[Makes sense?]_ Hero HQ won't hear your secret so long as they don't hear mine."

Aizawa downed the coffee in several quick gulps and set it down with a thud. "Knowing all this, why would I want to see you at all?"

Hizashi checked the clock on the oven and started to tap his foot faster. "Cause I like you," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Always have, know I always will. I wanna go on dates and get to know you again – _both _sides of you. Wanna be with you, not for information, or sex, or anything logical. You're the only one in the world who I'd be completely content with… Besides, you know my secret. With you, I don't have to live in constant fear that you'll sell me out. I … don't have to keep the lid closed around you… Understand?" Aizawa stared at him in complete shock. He couldn't say a word. The blond sighed, looking suddenly dejected. "I'm having a shower. Unlike you, I have work in five hours, and _[I'm freezing my cute butt off]."_

"No, we should talk more."

"Not right now." Hizashi ran a hand through his hair. It was odd role reversal, where Hizashi was the one who didn't want to talk and Aizawa was the one pressing the issue.

"I'll join you in the shower then."

The blond sniggered and stopped tapping. Without warning, Aizawa felt _heavy, _and his knees trembled beneath him. Hizashi straightened up, a wide grin stretched across his face. "Don't think you can, _baby_. With the dosage you just drank, you're gonna be asleep any second now." He winked and the edges around Aizawa's vision grew darker. Shit. "Don't worry though. _[I'll call you.]"_

The man collapsed to the floor as darkness engulfed him.

-o-

Right on time. Hizashi relaxed when Aizawa hit the floor and he dumped his own coffee in the sink. Course he'd only _pretended_ to sip from it. Seriously, it was 1am – who _actually _drank coffee at this time of night?

He sighed and grabbed all the spare towels as he knelt beside Aizawa and stripped him of his soaking clothes. It would be too annoying to move him into the bedroom, so he'd be sleeping there on the kitchen floor until morning. He set Aizawa's jumpsuit to dry and tenderly wrapped him in several towels, but was too tired to do much more for him at the moment.

One shower later, however, and Hizashi was feeling a bit perkier. Sex in the rain: that was a new experience. He'd checked his neck in the mirror, and the sight of the delicious marks had made his heart race, doubly so at the knowledge that Shouta Aizawa had been the one who'd made them. At work, everyone would know he'd been properly fucked. If only it'd happened the day before the reunion: he would've adored showing the cameras too…

He went to the bedroom and pulled on some spare pyjamas he kept there, although they were purposely a tad too large. At the bottom of the closet was an inconspicuous shoebox that he calmly pulled out and carried to the kitchen, where Shouta was still sound asleep. Hizashi sat beside him as he opened the box.

Inside was a small metal container that held a syringe and a small cylindrical microchip. Hizashi hummed gently as he pulled out his phone and activated the number on the chip, before he loaded it into the syringe. "Don't worry babe, this'll only hurt for a second."

The blond pulled the towels away from Shouta's body and glanced him over as he decided where to put the subdermal implant. It had to be a place Aizawa wouldn't readily check or be able to see with ease…

He grunted as he forced the unconscious villain onto his side and ran his thumb over Aizawa's back, just beneath his left shoulder blade. _"[Perfect]," _he said softly as he lined up the needle, "now hold still…" As he inserted the tracking microchip beneath the skin, the Erasure villain tensed, but didn't wake. He retracted the needle and tenderly rubbed the area to soothe it. By morning, there wouldn't be a mark, just a slight raised area that would slip even Aizawa's notice. Hizashi carefully rolled him back over and returned the shoebox to the wardrobe, only pausing to grab some pillows and bedsheets.

He made the floor as comfortable as possible, propping Aizawa's head on a soft pillow and draping the blanket over him, before he pulled his phone back out and redialled the previous number.

_"[Present Mic?]" _asked the voice on the other line. _"[What now?]"_

_"[Luckily for you, Simon, I've learnt who sold you out,]" _he said in perfect English. _"[There's a villain going around who's secretly a hero supporter in disguise. He's been all over the news lately. I've had my informants tracking him, and apparently he's the one who ratted your deal out to the heroes.]"_

_"[Oh, the one who's in that viral video with you? Eraserhead?]"_

Hizashi sat beside his sleeping love and tenderly played with a lock of black hair. "_[That's the one. He's hard to find, but I have a feeling he'll go to the warehouse with the others for the ambush. Leave him to me, but make sure your crew know not to trust him with information. Make sure word gets around too – don't want him getting info on any of us.]"_

"_[Good job, Present Mic. I'll make sure everyone knows not to trust him. You can tell Giran I won't be needing his services though; I have a new informant who has already considered several ideal locations.]"_

That was odd, but Hizashi felt utterly exhausted. If he didn't hire Giran for it, then it just meant it would fail, so his loss really. _"[Good. See you soon, Simon.]"_ He hung up and put the phone away as he yawned heavily. Man, he had a busy life…

Hizashi tenderly watched the sleeping man's face, noting how peaceful he looked like this. He'd sacrificed too much for Shouta: he wasn't going to let him become a villain so easily. He slipped beneath the blanket and cuddled into his side, not at all minding the hard kitchen floor since he got to cuddle with his love.

So, it wasn't the sort of night-after he'd expected from his first time with Shouta, but it could've been a lot worse. He'd get an earful for the sleeping drugs later, but for now he needed his beauty sleep.

Hizashi wrapped an arm around Shouta and rested his head against his chest, feeling warm and content as he joined him in sleep.

-x-

The morning had been such a rush, he'd barely had the chance to even look at his sleeping lover as he'd dressed for work. He'd written up a quick note for him, but had been out the door long before Aizawa woke, and that was definitely better for his physical health. Eraserhead wouldn't be the sort to instantly forgive him for the deception.

It was going to be a busy day. Firstly, Hizashi had his job at Hero HQ, and then he had his radio show – although that was the part he was most looking forward to. Tomorrow was also pretty good, with his favourite gig – he'd had a lot of inspiration for it lately.

"Hey Hi-Fi," Power Loader said as he came into work, dead on time as he typically was. "Busy night?"

"Definitely," he purred as he unscrewed several bolts in the support gear he was repairing.

Higari looked him over. Even though the pro's face was covered by his hero costume, Hizashi could feel the eyes as they scoped out the bruises and hickies along his neck – he'd done nothing to hide them. See? Even though he'd broken up with him, Hizashi was fine, and getting some amazing sex, and he didn't care at all that he'd been broken up with because of a fucking phone background.

"You went on a date with that guy from the papers?"

"Better," Hizashi said smugly, but then paused. "Well, sorta better. No date, and not that guy, but someone _way _more amazing." He purred eagerly, "And we might be having an actual date soon."

Higari smiled earnestly and said, "I'm glad. You deserve someone who makes you happy."

Something venomous stirred inside him, but vanished as soon as it was noticed. Why was he annoyed that Higari didn't want him anymore?

Hizashi now had Shouta.

Oh god, he had _Shouta _and that thought made him swell. He smiled genuinely at Power Loader as all bitterness vanished. "He makes me happy," he said softly, "and you're right: I _deserve_ to be happy."

Shouta was going to be _pissed _when he woke up, but Hizashi would deal with that later, because he planned to make Shouta Aizawa as happy as he made him, even if he had to hurt him to do that.


	19. Tyrannous

Chapter Nineteen

Tyrannous

"Alas, that love so gentle in his view,  
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"  
(Benvolio – Act 1, Scene 1)

When Aizawa awoke, he immediately wanted to fall back to sleep. The floor beneath him wasn't what surprised him: it was the soft pillow and comfortable blanket that wrapped around him. He rolled over a few times, trying to find a comfortable position, but his senses were distracted by the pleasant smell of Hizashi Yamada.

Something was instantly _wrong._

He sat up, Quirk flaring as his memories of the previous night resurfaced, but he was alone. Fuck, that blond idiot was going to _pay!_

Aizawa pulled himself to his feet and found his (dry) jumpsuit not too far from him, neatly folded with a note on top. He didn't want to read anything written by Hizashi, but curiosity got the better of him as he pulled it over and read it while he got dressed.

_'Thanks for last night! Sorry about how it ended, I hate feeling too tired for work! Had a fun time though 3 Definitely should do it again when I'm not busy! I'll call you, or you can call me. We should go on an actual date. Not sure who owes who dinner, but I'm sure we can sort that out easily enough. There's coffee in the pantry – nothing nasty in it, I promise! – and feel free to use anything in the apartment. See you VERY soon 3 3 3' _At the bottom was a 6-digit passcode, apparently for the front door of the safehouse, followed by Hizashi's flamboyant signature.

His hair fell over his shoulders as his Quirk deactivated, and he set about checking his jumpsuit and shoes for any tracking devices. He found none.

Aizawa pulled out his phone and found the number he'd added to it just the night before, dialling it without hesitation. After only a few rings, a very familiar voice answered.

_"Woah, hey baby!" _said Hizashi on the other side. _"Don't you know about the two-day rule? I might think you're too eager or something."_

"Cut the shit, Yamada!" he growled. "I don't care if you've got work, we're meeting up now and you're going to explain why you knocked me out, and-"

_"Oh baby, was I that boring? Guess we were both pretty tired. Don't blame ya, yo. However, can't leave work, as amazing as you are."_

"I said cut the shit. Whatever you slipped me didn't give me amnesia, so stop playing dumb! When I see you, I'm gonna tie you to a chair, and you're going to tell me _everything _or else I'm gonna-"

_"Kinky stuff, [lover boy]," _he purred through the phone, _"but as much as I look forward to all that, I really can't talk right now. Calm down, have a shower and put on some fresh clothes, cause I just__** know **__you're still wearing that tattered outfit. There's some food in the pantry. Next time you call, you can politely ask me on a date, 'kay?"_

"No you-" The phone went silent on the other end. He tried calling a few more times but he was ignored. "That idiot," he growled as he pulled his mask back on, already dreading his trip home in the daylight, although he paused before he opened the door.

_You ever get approached by a group called SYN?_

_They recruit you when you're at your lowest, and you don't get a choice._

_Each member is supposed to recruit someone else._

_Look, Sho, there's something I wanna talk about…_

That day in the photocopier room … had Hizashi been planning to _recruit_ him…?

He pulled his hand from the doorknob and pulled off his mask. This wasn't an excuse to be stupid. Aizawa stripped to have a quick shower and was almost (almost) pleased to find the water was warm and nothing like his home's faulty plumbing. He closed his eyes as he let the water wash over his muscles, but all he could think about was Hizashi and Present Mic.

The blond had been betraying Hero HQ for _years, _had been selling secrets from inside without getting caught by the most high-tech, pretentious, overfunded corporation in all of Japan… As pissed as he was by _all of this, _he would be lying if he said he wasn't (at least a little) impressed…

That idiot was really something…

_Cause I like you. Always have, know I always will. I wanna go on dates and get to know you again – both sides of you. Wanna be with you, not for information, or sex, or anything logical. You're the only one in the world who I'd be completely content with… Besides, you know my secret. With you, I don't have to live in constant fear that you'll sell me out. I … don't have to keep the lid closed around you… Understand?_

He recalled the sight of the bruised tattoo on Hizashi's back and his fists automatically curled. Dammit…

The villain turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around him, but left his jumpsuit on the cold tiles as he went to the apartment's bedroom and opened the wardrobe. Inside were a variety of clothes, ranging from suits, to dresses, to pants, to shirts: Hizashi was paranoid enough to store a range of disguises.

He pulled on a pair of pink tracksuit pants and a black long-sleeved shirt he might've found in his own closet. The bottom of the wardrobe was cluttered with enough shoeboxes to stock a shoe store, so he crouched and grabbed one at random, but frowned when he pulled the lid away – inside was a small metal container…

But he needed shoes, so Aizawa tossed the box to the side and searched through the others instead, inevitably finding a pair of simple boots in his size and an empty bag for his villain things. He returned to the kitchen and found a pack of instant ramen to satisfy his hunger, before he attempted to call Hizashi again.

The blond picked up immediately and repeated the same spiel as the previous conversation. _"Woah, hey baby! Don't you know about the two-day rule? I might think you're too eager or something."_

Aizawa exhaled, his mind buzzing with what Hizashi had said the previous night about not being Mic and Eraserhead when they weren't wearing their masks. He felt a lot calmer now: calm enough to be Shouta. "Never heard of that rule."

_"What, you been livin' under a rock?" _he said with a playful laugh. _"Well I had a great time last night. Sorry I had to leave so early – work keeps me super busy. [So not dope!] Now, what can I do for you?"_

He was _just _Shouta Aizawa, and on the phone was_ just_ Hizashi Yamada…

"Had fun too," he said, perhaps a little too honestly as he recalled the blond pressed against a wall, moaning for him with complete abandon. "Want to see you again…"

_"For a real date?"_

"Sure…"

_"Let me check my calendar…" _Hizashi hummed and didn't say anything for a time, and Aizawa was 80% certain he was only pretending to check. Eventually, however, he said, _"I'm pretty busy today and tomorrow… Can you do Sunday night? I know this cute little ramen joint I've been planning to try for ages!"_

"Yeah, sure," he murmured, "text me the details."

_"Hey Sho…" _The blond's voice was softer, and he'd dropped the superficial edge to it. _"I'm really glad we're talking again. I've … missed you." _Aizawa wasn't entirely sure how to respond to the honesty, especially considering everything he'd only recently discovered about Hizashi Yamada. _"Tonight I've got my show, but I'll dedicate a song to you – without giving away your name of course."_

"I'll listen in," he said, although an idea budded at the mention. "See you soon, Zashi." He hung up and stared at the wall.

Hizashi would be busy tonight. His biggest obstacle would be out the way and Eraserhead could successfully debut in peace. That would be his vengeance for drugging him.

-x-

Eraserhead started his night by going to the villain bar, and to his surprise he heard Hizashi's voice as he entered, but when he looked around there were only two people inside: Kurogiri and Giran. They glanced up at his presence, and the information broker gestured at the seat beside him.

An old radio sat on the bar, the source of Hizashi's voice as he rattled on, answering a question sent in by a listener about the difference between Japanese rap and English rap.

"You closed?" Aizawa asked as he sat down, decked in his typical Eraserhead costume.

"Yes," Kurogiri said, although he was already moving to make him a drink, "we're always closed Fridays, but you're more than welcome to join us. You listen to his show?"

"Never," he said honestly. Throughout their years of separation, Shouta had tried on numerous occasions to listen to the show, but hearing the blond's voice had only made his pain worse, and eventually he'd given up altogether. "I'm surprised you do."

"We're supportive parents," Giran said with a shrug as he lit a cigarette. He offered one to Aizawa, but he turned it down. "How much do you know?"

"SYN recruited him at fifteen."

"Guilty," the information broker said. "I had to recruit someone from your school and I saw him on the news, saying he'd talk to anyone who'd listen. Kid reminded me of myself at that age."

Aizawa's grip on his drink tightened. "Why not me? Wouldn't I have been the better candidate? I _won_."

Giran snorted. "Maybe I like a challenge. Besides, you were too obvious. Hizashi, on the other hand, with that grin and bubbly personality and geeky charisma: who'd ever suspect him? You went to school with him. How was his acting?" Aizawa was silent. "Exactly. Kid was a natural."

"He was going to recruit me, but he didn't. Why?"

Giran smoked his cigarette and looked like he wouldn't say anything, but Kurogiri had no apparent qualms with talking about it. "SYN fell before he could."

_They fell a few years back, after someone snitched to Hero HQ, and most of the higher ups got arrested._

"Hizashi," he said as pieces fell into place. "He sold out SYN to Hero HQ so I wouldn't get recruited. That's why he's so adamant about stopping my debut."

There was a weighty silence, filled only with some Japanese rap song on the radio. Giran and Kurogiri shared a look, as if they were having some unspoken conversation, and then the broker sighed out a long line of smoke. "The kid wasn't far enough in the group to know the higher ups. He's innocent, so don't go flapping your lips 'bout stuff you don't know." It _wasn't _Hizashi…? "So, got any info for me?"

"He likes cats."

"Who doesn't?" Giran said with a snort. "Anything _useful_?"

Aizawa recalled the blond's phone conversation from the previous night. "He talked to someone on the phone, told him heroes were gonna ambush him on Monday night and ruin his drug deal, but Zashi was gonna give a concert instead. The drug deal's gonna move, and he might get in contact with you."

Giran and Kurogiri looked at him curiously, before turning to each other again. "Think the sex was that bad?" the broker asked the bartender as he took another drag.

"Mic's more upset than we thought."

"Suppose it makes sense," Giran said with a nod. "You remember how stubborn he was about it. Woulda died if you hadn't told me. Doubt he's gonna just take it lying down now he has the means to do something."

"Mic's putting him in danger though."

"Guess he thinks he can hold his own against Simon's thugs. Sure he's already planned five steps ahead – I taught him well."

Aizawa tapped his finger on the counter, annoyed at being left out of the 'conversation'. "Gave you info."

"You certainly did," conceded the broker. "A good thing you told _me_, since no one else would believe a word you said."

"What?"

A wry grin lit up Giran's face. "People are saying you're a traitor, saying _you_ told Hero HQ about the upcoming deal. His network is pissed. I'm probably the only broker who'll still listen to you, Eraserhead."

His hair raised about his shoulders as fire ripped through him. "_What?"_

Giran drew another mouthful of smoke from the death stick and exhaled it into the air. "You're apparently a hero in disguise."

_"Hope you liked that song, [Dear Listeners!]" _said Hizashi's voice from the small device. _"Now, this next one goes out to someone special to me. Hope you're listening, baby~"_

The song started lowly, an oldie.

**_I see a bad moon rising~! I see trouble on the way!_**

Damn that blond was going to pay. Before he heard any more of the song, Aizawa left the bar, determined to prove to everyone just how villainous he could be.

-x-

He prowled through the night streets, searching for a victim – he didn't really care in which regards. Maybe he'd mug them, maybe stab them, maybe murder them and string their body in the street with his forced title written in their blood. However, he was distracted by a similar yet different sight altogether. His feet came to an abrupt halt, soles scuffing lightly against the asphalt as he turned his scarlet lenses to the nearest wall: written in equally crimson spray paint were the words '_ALL IN FOR ERASERHEAD' _and _'NUMBER ONE HERO'._

His hands trembled at the complete idiocy. He was a _villain! _If the citizens knew who he really was, the boy who'd nearly killed his best friend on TV screens everywhere, they'd certainly have a different opinion of him.

Aizawa's thoughts were interrupted by the noticeable presence of several shady figures, emerging from alleyways around him. "Well, if it ain't a little hero, all alone~" one of them cooed as they bared their teeth in a sinister grin. There were three in total, all larger than him, and all with obvious mutation Quirks and rusty steel pipes.

"You boys seen the vid of this loser fighting Mic?" another asked his comrades. "Man, if I lost to a twink like that, I'd be hiding my face too."

"Our boss wants your kneecaps, Eraserhead. Hope you don't need 'em."

Beneath his mask, Aizawa ran a tongue over his lips, and he clenched his hands tightly. This was _exactly_ what he needed.

The first two came at him immediately, swinging their pipes like he was some lowly insect to be swatted. Aizawa evaded them with ease and grabbed each by the wrists, heaving them back. The butts of their pipes smacked into their faces, and Eraserhead's feet swept cleanly beneath them, knocking them off balance.

They clattered to the floor as the third thug raced for him, brandishing his pipe high overhead. However, he wasn't planning to hit him with it – it was a distraction. From behind the thug emerged a thick tail that lashed for his side. Eraserhead ducked beneath it and flung his body at the man's chest, his head connecting with his gut. The horns of his mask bruised the skin, but didn't break through as the man flew back and hit the wall.

He activated his Erasure Quirk, mostly for the image of it as opposed to functionality, while the other two pulled themselves from the floor.

"Bastard!" one called as he lunged at Aizawa again with zero restraint and the pipe swinging wildly. Eraserhead grabbed his hand and tilted it down so the tube was away from him. His foot caught the attacker's ankle, and the air filled with the sick down of tearing flesh.

The man had fallen directly on the pipe, impaling it directly through his leg. The thug _wailed _in agony, his screams echoing through the back alleys, and undoubtably attracting the attention of unwanted guests. Aizawa sneered, but his automatic instinct was to glance over the wound: he hadn't punctured an artery, fortunately, so the man would live… Wait, no: _unfortunately. Unfortunately _the man would live.

The man screamed so heavily it made the other goons baulk, but Aizawa didn't stay for long enough to find out which heroes would come running. He slipped into the shadows and made his retreat, feeling more content than he had before the fight, but no less bitter.

He and Present Mic were going to have a nice, long 'chat'…


	20. Candle-Holder

Chapter Twenty

Candle-Holder

"I'll be a candle-holder and look on,  
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done."  
\- Romeo (Act 1, Scene 4)

It was Saturday morning and Hizashi sat alone in the unnamed bar, tapping out a tune on the counter as he worked through the mountain of paperwork. His phone was muted, although Shouta had been trying to call him all day – that guy really needed to learn the difference between Hizashi and Present Mic.

He wasn't in his villain attire yet, but no one was around to recognise him – even Kurogiri and Giran were out. Despite the dirty lighting and the lack of windows and the scent of stale cigarette smoke, this was the place he felt most at home, where he was most able to concentrate when things became too much.

It was located between UA and his childhood house, so Hizashi had stopped in often when he'd been young. Back then it'd been difficult to do his homework at home as his mother had always blasted (rocking) tunes, so he'd lied to his parents about joining a homework club and had stayed back at the bar before opening. Those had certainly been interesting days…

_Seven Years Ago_

The sixteen-year-old entered the bar with his school bag slung over his shoulder and a frown on his face. Kurogiri was tidying up around the place, getting ready for opening, while Giran was at the bar with several phones lying before him.

"Hizashi," the mist-man greeted with a nod. "The usual?"

"Yeah, thanks," he mumbled as he sat at the bar, a few seats from Giran. He should tell them about his issue with Shouta, that he wasn't able to recruit him, but that was impossible. If they found out, they'd recruit the Erasure Quirk user themselves to spare Hizashi's life, and he couldn't let that happen either. He pulled out his homework and set to work on it, although he was distracted by his thoughts.

"You're getting a lot wrong," noted Giran as he moved from his seat to sit beside him. "Something up, kiddo?"

"No way," he lied with a forced grin, but the broker clearly didn't buy it. Kurogiri set down Hizashi's drink: a strawberry milkshake. He'd even added a little paper umbrella to cheer him up, but it didn't work. "Thanks Kuro."

Giran awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Look kid, I can't deal with a moody teenager phase. You gonna tell us what's up or do I gotta start putting recording devices on ya?"

Hizashi exhaled and pulled off his round glasses, setting them to the side. He _definitely _couldn't tell Giran – the recruiter wouldn't understand what he was going through. "It's a lot," he murmured instead.

Kurogiri leaned against the bar, interested as well. "What is?"

"Keeping it up… You guys are the only ones I don't have to constantly walk on eggshells around." The sixteen-year-old scratched the back of his head. While it wasn't the whole truth, it wasn't exactly a lie. He was terrified he'd somehow slip up and someone would discover his big secret. If the wrong person found out, he was screwed. "Some days are harder than others, and it's just been a hard day…"

"You're juggling a lot," agreed Kurogiri.

"Understatement," he said with a sorrowful smile. "I'm jugging straight-A's, my school life, my homework, my newfound popularity, my current boyfriend, a billion ex's, the media, my parents, my reputation, and my training all at once, not to mention you guys and my information gathering. It's… hard."

"And the recruitment," Giran added, unhelpfully.

Kurogiri nodded in understanding. "It _is _a lot to juggle, and you know we're here for you whenever you need help or advice."

"Look at this." Giran pulled out his carton of cigarettes and held it between them. "What's this?"

"A ticket to an early grave?"

The broker rolled his eyes and waved it, as if making a point. "It's a box. What do you notice about the box?"

"…It's closed."

"Exactly!" Giran grinned and pushed up the lid while saying, "And now?"

_"[Open sesame.]"_

"Too smart for your own good, kid. This box is you, 'kay? Right now, when you're with us, the lid is open. You can talk about _anything_." He pulled a cigarette out and put it between his teeth. "When you're 'round everyone else though, it's as easy as closing the lid. Snap it shut, and everything they don't need to see stays hidden." He snapped the carton shut and shook it, rattling the remaining death sticks inside. "You won't slip up, so long as that lid stays closed. I wouldn't've taken you under my wing if I didn't think you could keep your big mouth shut."

He put the carton away and pulled out his lighter, earning a disapproving look from Kurogiri. "No smoking around Hizashi. You'll give him your bad habit."

"What're ya, my wife?" Giran rolled his eyes and stood up. "You get it, kid?" Hizashi nodded as he pictured himself as the box. It was a decent metaphor, but didn't sound any easier, and it certainly wasn't a solution to his Aizawa problem. Giran puffed out a cloud of smoke and ruffled Hizashi's blond hair, catching him by surprise. "Here." He slid one of the phones to him, and said, "All yours."

Despite his predicament, the blond couldn't help but keep the beam of pride from his face. His very own burner phone! "Thanks, old man."

He grunted and made his way for the door. "Lid open here, lid closed everywhere else."

He left and Hizashi sipped his milkshake, but Kurogiri folded his arms. "Okay, he's gone and you can tell me what's _really_ bothering you. Lid open."

The blond ducked his head sheepishly, but there was no escaping the mist-man's gaze. "I'll tell you," he relented, "but you can't tell Giran, and you can't go behind my back about it." Kurogiri nodded, but was silent, and Hizashi forced down half the milkshake before he began. "I submitted my file, about the one I wanted to recruit, and I got approval, but… I _can't _do it!" His hands trembled and his homework was completely forgotten. "I thought it would be great, being villains together, but he's _too __**good**_ to_ ever _be a villain!"

"He said no?"

Hizashi shook his head. "I couldn't even ask him! When I went to recruit him, he was saving a kitten from a tree in the rain, _[like a saint!] _What if he said yes? He's not a villain: he can still be a hero, and I have faith in him! But they'll kill me if I don't recruit him!" His eyes glossed over, but he tried his best to keep himself from crying – villains weren't supposed to cry. "But if I ask him and he refuses, they'll kill _him_! I don't… I don't know what to do…"

There was silence for a time as the sixteen-year-old wept, his mind focused on the image of a boy in the rain and of soft lips against his. He had to keep Shouta safe. It didn't matter if Sho kept pushing Hizashi away, or if he'd almost killed him – he had to be protected!

He **_loved_** him.

He loved him more than he wanted him, and above everything else he_ needed_ him to be safe from this life. Keeping the box closed was hard, and he couldn't force that on Shouta.

"For now, just say he was approached, but wasn't offered a position yet," Kurogiri said softly. "Don't worry about anything else."

"But… But…" He couldn't stop the tears now they'd been unleashed. "I can't ever be with him because I'm _like this_… I won't be able to keep the lid closed around him! I-"

"Hizashi." He was silenced by Kurogiri. Cold stillness filled the bar, but before the blond could add anything, the mist-man spoke up again. "Do you like playing music for an audience?" He looked up at him, stunned, and the bartender gestured at the small stage. "You can't overthink if you're too busy, right? Let's keep you busy. Saturday nights, you can be the live entertainment for the bar. Play some music. No rock, and nothing too loud, but I know your taste is diverse and you're good. I'll pay."

Hizashi swallowed as he eyed the stage and imagined the people in the establishment, all looking at him, and he momentarily forgot about Shouta. "I don't know…"

Kurogiri led him to the small platform and pulled a stool to its centre. "You know how to play guitar?" He offered him an old instrument, its reflective surface dirtied by the bar lights, but Hizashi took it as he sat himself down on the stool.

"You know I do…" he murmured softly as he strummed each string and checked the tuning.

"Show me."

He frowned, unsure of how this would help his situation in any way, but he was always excited to show off his skills, even if it was just a short section. His fingers ran over the strings, the notes memorised more so by the finger positions than the actual sound, and he played the first song that came to mind.

_ "[Then leave me in the rain, wait until my clothes cling to my frame, wipe away your tear stains… Thought you said you didn't feel pain…]" _He closed his eyes to stop the tears from bubbling back over, and he put everything he could muster into the lyrics, wishing desperately that somewhere, somehow, Shouta Aizawa could hear him. _"[This … is … torturous, electricity between both of us~ And this … is … dangerous, cause I want you so much, but I hate your guts… I want you so much, but I hate your guts… I __**hate you**__…]"_

In his head was the image of Aizawa in the rain, the cat cradled beneath his jacket as he stared at him in shock.

His playing halted completely. He opened his eyes and stared out at the empty bar.

"For how many Saturdays…?" His voice was quieter than expected, strained with emotions as he tried to keep himself focused on the room.

"As many as you need."

Hizashi slowly nodded his head, heart hammering against his ribcage. It probably wouldn't be for much longer anyway, so he might as well do something he loved. _"[Deal.]"_

-x-

_Present Day_

When Aizawa climbed the steps that led to Kurogiri's bar, his head was muffled with rage, but he paused once he stood outside the doorway. Beyond was the sound of soft guitar music and quiet chatter. As he opened the door and stepped inside the villain bar, nothing changed. A few people glanced at him, but didn't move for the door as he'd expected them to.

He hadn't noticed the small stage on his previous visits, but a small red spotlight now made it impossible to miss, and in the pool of scarlet sat a familiar figure.

Present Mic's fingers flickered over the acoustic guitar strings like a puppeteer, the calming sound a stark contrast to his violent electric guitar, yet just as skilled, and his voice soon drew Aizawa's attention.

_"[Shadows settle on the place that you left, our minds are troubled by the emptiness.]" _His voice was soft and _nice, _the focus on tune rather than volume, and he didn't look up from his guitar as Aizawa entered. By the look of it, at that moment in time, the only thing that existed in Hizashi's world was his guitar and his voice and the English lyrics. _"[Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time, from the perfect start… to the finish line.]"_

Even Eraserhead's dodgy reputation couldn't make people leave, and although there'd been some chattering before he'd walked in, everyone had grown silent to listen to Hizashi's words, whether they knew English or not. They must've come for him.

_"[And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones … 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs – setting fire to our insides for fun. Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong… The lovers that went __**wrong**__.]" _The words stymied as his guitar grew louder.

All the anger Aizawa had felt was temporarily gone. He'd almost forgotten how nice his singing sounded when he wasn't trying to blow out someone's eardrums. Not wanting to stand idiotically in the doorway, however, Eraserhead moved to the bar and waited for Kurogiri to finish serving another customer. The place was packed.

_"[We are the reckless, we are the wild youth, chasing visions of our futures. One day we'll reveal the truth, that one will die before he gets there… And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones, cause most of our feelings they are dead and they are gone.]"_

Kurogiri noticed him and a moment later, a gin and tonic appeared in a small cloud of mist. Such a useful Quirk… Aizawa nodded at him and removed his mouthpiece to sip it, his eyes glancing back to the concentrating blond.

_"[We're setting fire to our insides for fun… Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home – it was a flood that wrecked this home… And you caused it… And you caused it. And you caused it~]" _Between the beak of Mic's mask, he found no smile, and something felt wrong about that. Hizashi Yamada was a villain, had been one since Aizawa had destroyed his- No. Aizawa had _not _destroyed his life, it had been- _"[Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette: a lifeless face that you'll soon forget. My eyes are damp from the words you left…]"_

_You should've been stronger._

No…

_"[Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest… Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest…]"_

Fuck, it _was _his fault. Hizashi Yamada was a villain, and Shouta was to blame. The blond's lips suddenly turned upwards in a soft smile.

_"[And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one… Cause most of us are__** bitter**__ over someone… Setting fire to our insides for fun, to distract our hearts from ever missing them…]" _For just a moment, he thought he felt Hizashi's gaze through his orange lenses. _"[But I'm forever missing __**him**__. And you caused it… And you caused it… And you caused it~]"_

His fingers finished the song on the guitar, and the crowd quietly clapped and returned to their conversations. No one reacted to Aizawa's presence, even now, and when he glanced around he was curious to notice how different the crowd was compared to Kurogiri's typical clientele.

Tonight, everyone was wearing a mask, and everyone was more imposing. Usually the bar would have a few men in suits, but these people were all in costume – everyone here was an established villain, with nothing to fear from the rumoured 'hero' Eraserhead.

He sipped his gin and tonic and listened quietly to Hizashi as he sang a few other songs, but none equalled the emotion of the first number and they were mostly in Japanese. Kurogiri was too busy for conversation, and although Giran _was _in the bar, he was busy talking to other criminals, no doubt gathering information. Nevertheless, Aizawa didn't end up being completely alone.

Someone sat in the stool beside his and leaned against the counter. "Hey," purred a female voice, "you're looking awfully lonely~" Beside him was a woman in a long red dress and a masquerade mask, her lips painted just as scarlet as his lenses. "You're Eraserhead, right? Saw your video – you've certainly got some moves~"

He grunted indifferently and finished his gin and tonic.

Unfortunately, she didn't leave. "Let me buy you a drink," the woman said, eyeing his now empty glass. "Unless you wanna go somewhere quieter for some … fun~" She purred and leaned her body forward. The cut of her dress was too low, and her breasts were pushed together to appear perkier than they were. "I bet you're handsome under that mask~" She placed her hand on his arm and he eyed it oddly.

He'd been with women before, many times, but when he looked at her, he only thought of Hizashi Yamada. Aizawa imagined the blond lying on a bed, without his mask, face flushed, with saliva glistening his lips, swollen from kissing-

"Am I interrupting something?" That voice, still mimicking a timey radio presenter, dragged him back to reality. Present Mic stood behind them, hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised above his orange lenses. The woman's hand was still flirtatiously pressed to Eraserhead's arm, clear evidence that Mic _was _indeed interrupting something.

The woman answered before Aizawa did. "You are."

Eraserhead slipped his arm away from her and stood, taking Hizashi by the wrist. His skin was soft and warm just above his glove. Aizawa tried to remember the anger from when he'd walked up the stairway to the bar, but he couldn't even bring himself to hold him too firmly, lest he hurt him. "Private?" he asked, only realising it wasn't much of a question after the word had come out. Aizawa clarified with, "Anywhere private to talk?"

"_We _were _talking," _said the woman, the sneer just as thick in her voice as it was on her face.

A smirk lit up Hizashi's lips and he wrapped his hands around Aizawa's arm, pulling him close and pressing against his chest. His orange lenses, however, were still directed at her. "Sweetie, you ain't gonna lure him with your tissue-tits. 'Sides, why'd he bang a hag like you when someone as sexy as me is practically_ begging_ for his dick~?" Hizashi purred and ran a hand over Aizawa's chest, and at that moment he felt many eyes on him, from villains around the room.

The woman huffed, but Hizashi was tugging him away from the bar, his hands still wrapped around his arm. He wordlessly led him through a door that read '_Staff Only', _through a room cluttered with cardboard boxes, and through a second door. Beyond was a meeting room, with a table and eight chairs, albeit the place felt disused and cold.

Hizashi exhaled and released his arm as he locked the door behind him. "You have a strange taste in women, babe, but each to their own I suppose. What, you want a threesome or something? I'm as gay as they come, so they don't do anything for me, but if you enjoy 'em then be my guest."

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "Took you for the jealous type."

The blond shrugged his shoulders and perched on the table as he pulled his box of cigarettes from inside his jacket. "Not as much as you. Exploring sexuality is healthy, so long as everyone's consenting. Not saying cheating is a good thing, but you and I ain't exactly exclusive, and everyone's got their kinks." He lit a death stick and inhaled deeply. As he spoke, a plume of smoke hung in the air around him, and Aizawa kept away. "Why, you _wanna_ be exclusive?"

The way he said it was strange. He was trying to be too casual, but there was something telling about the way he looked at everything _other _than Aizawa when he said it. Shouta wasn't great at reading people, so was Hizashi purposely acting so obvious?

Aizawa rubbed his neck and, again, tried to reach for that earlier anger, yet all he could feel was the painful thrum of his earlier epiphany. The blond had become a villain because of him. No, he still had to confront him about what he'd done! He'd told the drug boss that he'd sold them out! Still, what came out was, "You talking now as Mic or Zashi?"

The blond grinned beneath the beak. "Does it matter? If you wanna be exclusive, I certainly won't complain, but I'll be needy. I'm not the jealous type, but I need _a lot_ of attention." He licked his lips and ran a finger over his neck. "You wouldn't believe how much concealer it took to cover the marks. Fuck, I get turned on just thinking 'bout it~ _[Super fucking hot~]"_

Something bubbled in his chest, but it wasn't a bad feeling. He remembered back to his high school days, of all the arms the blond had bounced between, all the boyfriends and girlfriends and others, and all the rank emotions that had chipped away at Shouta as he'd silently watched on. Exclusivity. He could have Hizashi all to himself…

"You've cheated before," he said weakly, mind shifting to the one time he'd finally had his treasured Hizashi in his arms, as they'd kissed beside photocopiers. Hizashi had had a boyfriend back then, but that hadn't stopped that moment.

"You kissed me first, as I recall."

"You kiss me the second time."

The blond waggled a finger, gesturing for Aizawa to come closer, and despite the foul smoke in the air, he relented. Mic pulled him close and wrapped his legs around Shouta's waist, but despite the compromising position, there was an odd lack of sensuality to it. Hizashi took his hand and pulled their gloves off so he could entwine their finger. "You feel that too, right?"

His voice was almost sombre, suddenly authentic, but the words were what surprised him. As their warm skin pressed together, he knew he was referring to the gentle thrum that coursed between them. They'd never talked about it – in fact, Aizawa hadn't even considered the possibility that Hizashi felt it too. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, but his silence spoke volumes to the intelligent blond.

"That was the only time I've ever cheated on anyone, Sho, because when it comes to you, I have no self-control." His other hand stubbed the cigarette out on the table, before he moved up to trace his crimson lenses. "I _do _want you, Sho, almost more than I've ever wanted anything. If you wanna be exclusive, then I'll be faithful."

He wanted to be angry. Present Mic had spread lies about him, had knocked him unconscious with sedatives, and had continuously ruined his debuts. For years, anger had been his driving force, but with Hizashi's hand entwined with his, it no longer felt important. The wall between them was slipping.

His eyes were set on Hizashi's soft lips, so close yet so far away.

He could have him all to himself, as he'd always wanted.

_You should've been stronger._

For just a moment, Aizawa saw a young boy with a broken hand, face purple and panicked, his cries for help unvoiced as he'd been kicked across the field.

Eraserhead pulled away from the man, the man who'd become a _villain _because of _him_ and how _stupid _he'd been.

"Tech," he said, his voice deeper than intended. "You promised me tech."

The wall was back, as tall as ever.

If Present Mic was affronted, it was impossible to tell, but he certainly wasn't pleased. "I did," he said, back in his radio voice. "You completed your first task, so we can start the planning phase. Tell me what you want, _[loverboy]."_

This man before him was his biggest obstacle to his villainous plans, but Eraserhead no longer wished to kill him, as easy as that would be. He needed something that even the weapon's inventor would struggle to stop… "I have a few ideas…"

He needed a capture weapon.

* * *

Songs: Landfill by Daughter  
Youth by Daughter


	21. A Love-Song

Chapter Twenty-One

A Love-Song

"Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead,  
stabbed with a white wench's black eye,  
run through the ear with a love-song,"  
(Mercutio - Act 2, Scene 4)

He didn't have him…

No, Hizashi _did _have Aizawa – the Erasure villain just didn't know it yet. Mic was certain that if he spread his legs and dipped his neck and said the right words in the right tone, he'd be shoved down on the table and fucked into sweet oblivion, but now wasn't the time for that.

They had a date tomorrow, as Hizashi and Shouta, and they could have all the fun they wanted then (plus he wouldn't get scolded for messing up the old meeting room).

It had to mean something, this electricity between them, but nothing good would come from scaring Shouta away with words like 'exclusive' and 'faithful'. He _wasn't _the jealous type… Usually. Guess Shouta was his one exception though – he'd played it cool, but the thought of anyone else touching him…

They talked and planned about Aizawa's desired capture weapon, but if it was obvious Hizashi's heart wasn't in it, Eraserhead didn't mention it. People always said that if you chose a job you loved, you'd never work a day in your life, but that was a dirty _fucking_ lie.

If you chose a job you loved, you'd soon grow to hate the thing that'd once filled your life with joy.

He designed support ware day in, day out, and it was slowly killing him. He'd thought designing something for Shouta would've been more exciting, but the man didn't have many ideas to bounce back at him.

A capture weapon, like a scarf, that could be used to tie people up and could also be used for mobility. Hizashi asked if he wanted the movements to be automatic, but he'd immediately shot down the idea. Guess Eraserhead didn't trust him to not rig in something nasty – a wise decision really.

"If it's manual, you'll have to train a tonne before it'll be of much use," Hizashi said, his mind already deciding what materials to use – something that electricity could run through so he'd still have an advantage with his taser. He'd have to steal stuff from work, but Power Loader had always been lenient about letting him take resources home for tinkering. "I can help you, of course, but it'll kinda be like the blind leading the blind. _[That okay?]"_

Eraserhead nodded. "What'll be my next task?"

"Good question. I'll tell you when I think of something." Hizashi hopped off the table, head lolling a little. God, he was tired.

"Hizashi…" he said softly, catching him by surprise. "It's not a good idea…"

The blond frowned and tilted his head. "What isn't?"

"The date."

His stomach churned. "Why? You wanna reschedule?"

"Yamada … we _ruined_ each other's lives. It's nice that we talked, but now it's done." So, this was how he was going to handle his guilt: in the same way Hizashi had handled it seven years ago. "We're Present Mic and Eraserhead and nothing more."

Hizashi exhaled, almost wishing he hadn't stubbed out his cigarette so soon. "Sho, I'm a _villain, _whether we're together or not, and I'm gonna keep ruining your debut, whether we're together or not. Now, _I'm _not the jealous type, but you've never been able to keep your eyes off me – or anyone I'm with." A sinister grin curled his lips. "You've never been one for subtlety."

Eraserhead stiffened. "What're you suggesting?"

He laughed, too casually. "Here's the thing, Sho. I _love _dating. I _need _someone who wants to spend their time with me, who thinks I'm amazing, who knows how lucky they are to have me. I love venting about my day, and joking around, and cuddling, and having rough, passionate, _meaningful _sex. I want to be at the centre of everyone's universe, but I need someone to be at the centre of mine. _[Need it bad, baby.]" _Aizawa looked ready to say something, but he remained quiet, so Hizashi continued. "I need someone to love, and I need someone to love me – _[off camera]_ \- and if that man isn't you, Sho, then I'll settle for someone else."

Although the mask hid his face, Hizashi could sense the scowl beneath, but when he spoke, he dismissively said, "Don't care."

The blond smiled wider. "You sure about that? Cause there's a cute policeman I know who's really looking forward to a date. The papers think we'd make a cute couple, and with him on my arm I'd have access to the whole police network. Being with him is far more _logical_ than being with you, a broke, contactless, moody, wannabe-villain with less charisma than a rock. I mean, just imagine the negative media I'd get from dating _you, _the kid who nearly killed me! Bet they'd think I've gone crazy, which might not be far from the truth, but-"

Aizawa threw his knife, but Hizashi didn't need to dodge – it was aimed to miss. It sliced past his arm and burrowed itself in the wall. "I don't _fucking care," _he growled out, temper flaring at last, although he managed to control his Erasure Quirk.

Hizashi rolled his shoulders, unperturbed. "Then kiss me."

_That _caught him off-guard. "…_What?"_

"You think I don't notice the way you stare at my mouth?" He licked his lips and grinned. "Kiss me and _then_ tell me how little you care." Aizawa scoffed and turned to leave the room, but Hizashi stopped him with his following words: "If you leave now, you _will_ regret it."

The Erasure villain hesitated. Hizashi watched the muscles tense and shift beneath his jumpsuit as he struggled to decide what he really wanted to do. "Is that a threat?"

"If you need it to be, baby."

For a moment, he thought he had him. Aizawa's shoulders slightly turned, and he expected the rest of his body to follow suit, but instead he shook his head. "I hope that policeman makes you happy." And with that he left, not even taking the time to retrieve his knife from the wall.

Hizashi didn't try to stop him.

Did Shouta think he was bluffing? Well, he wasn't! If Shouta wouldn't take him on a date tomorrow, then he'd call the policeman and go out with him instead, and have a good time, and go back to being in a relationship walking on eggshells about his villainous side, and-

…What was he even doing…?

Hizashi exhaled as he hauled himself off the table and pulled Aizawa's knife from the wall. He eyed his reflection in the sheen of metal.

God, he was _tired._

-x-

When Aizawa returned home, Hizashi's words were still ringing through his head – in fact, he could think of nothing else. He pulled off his jumpsuit, although the zipper got caught on the fabric and he had to fiddle it free, and as he wrenched off his villain mask it tangled painfully with his hair. The costume was tossed to the floor, roughly and unceremoniously, and he beelined for the bathroom.

Today the water was burning hot, but Shouta still stood beneath the searing cascade, even as his skin turned crimson. If he'd hoped the pain would ease his thoughts, he was sorely mistaken. The water swapped to blisteringly cold, but he barely noticed until his teeth involuntarily chattered.

"Fuck him," he growled out.

Hizashi had been right about one thing: he already regretted it.

Aizawa recalled the one time he and Yamada had kissed, and how he'd been instantly willing to toss away his hatred if it had meant_ another_ kiss. The blond knew how to tempt him with words like faithful and exclusive, but coming from him those sweet words were **_dangerous._**

Shouta _needed _his anger: it was his soul driving force. Without it, who was he…?

The water made his back itchy, but when he scratched it, he felt an odd raised area, around his shoulder blade. A bug bite? His eyebrows stitched together in concern, but he was distracted by a sound from his 'living room'.

He edged out of the bathroom without turning off the faucet, but no one had broken into his apartment. Lying atop his minifridge was his hunting knife and a departing puff of black mist. Attached was a small note.

Aizawa exhaled heavily, but didn't rush to pick it up. He leisurely turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around him, even took the time to grab a pair of boxers and a jelly-pack from the minifridge for his dinner. His eyes ghosted over the note but didn't absorb the words as he sat on his sleeping bag, downed the jelly-pack and checked the latest news on his phone's internet.

One hour later, and his patience ran dry.

The note said less, yet more, than he thought it would.

_'Hey Sho,_

_Sorry to cancel on such short notice, but I won't be able to make our date tomorrow. Definitely some other time, although my week's looking pretty busy! Call me when you're ready to reschedule. I'll be waiting 3_

_Yours faithfully,_

_Zashi'_

So, he was still planning to keep up the charade, to pretend their civilian personas weren't linked to their villain identities… Typical. Despite the irritation, something felt lighter in his chest after reading those words. Hizashi would've chosen them carefully.

_I'll be waiting._

Had he been bluffing about dating the policeman or-

Dammit, he didn't care! Hizashi was just as out of reach as he'd always been, despite this mirage of closeness. Their sex had been meaningless, a simple bargain to ensure the creation of his capture weapon and nothing more.

…

The blond's phone conversation came to mind without warning.

_Hey Simon, you know that drug deal you're arranging at the docks? Yeah, Monday, that one. Pro-Heroes have discovered the location and are planning to set up an ambush… Don't worry, I'll be happy to wait at the docks to give the heroes a … surprise._

Aizawa stared at the ceiling, his hands curling into fists. Hizashi had purposely said the day and location as a dare…

He glanced at his mask, still lying on the floor where he'd tossed it.

It was time for Eraserhead to prove he was a villain once and for all.

-x-

His Sunday night was spent scouting out the harbour district, but it was worth it once Aizawa noticed the hero Midnight, staring intently at a building by the docks. He slipped into the shadows before she noticed him, the sea breeze wafting gently through her dark hair. There was no reason to question why she was there: no doubt she was one of the heroes setting up the ambush for tomorrow.

As he watched, she pulled out a phone and talked to someone, although the wind carried her voice away and there was nothing he could do about that – it was wise to stay downwind with her Quirk. Must've been important, if she was answering while working…

He tried to move closer, slipping from shadow to shadow, but the call didn't last long enough. Kayama sighed heavily as she slipped the phone away, but then she knelt and set something up on the edge of the roof, before heading off to continue her patrol. Aizawa watched her go before he climbed up to examine whatever she'd placed: a small camera.

Odd. He made sure he kept out of its sight as he continued to survey the area, only to find two more cameras all pointed at the building. Guess Hero HQ wanted this one recorded…

Even so, something felt off about it. This had Hizashi written all over it, but there was no way Nemuri knew he was Present Mic…

Right?

Definitely not: this was probably something he was having her do as Hizashi and not as Mic.

He didn't dare go close to the building, lest he encounter other heroes scouting around, although he was able to find a window without a camera facing it. That's how he'd get in.

-x-

It was time.

Hizashi's costume was perfect, the cameras were in place, his tech was finely tuned, and he was ready to roll once the sensor alarms sounded. This would be a great stunt – his mouth was already watering at the thought of the publicity.

_Present Mic defeats heroes! All claim he was just too powerful!_

If he was showy enough, no one would focus on his non-existent body count…

He sniggered and finished checking over his latest portable platform. It was similar to the one he'd had on top of the building, but more refined (and not as likely to explode). The next thing to check was his phone and the tracking device he'd inserted into Aizawa's back. It was near the warehouse… Tonight was going to be _fun._

Kurogiri appeared in his lab with a puff of mist, but had nothing to criticise as he glanced around – Hizashi always kept the place spotless. "Ready?" the bartender asked instead.

"Just waiting for them. Did Simon hire Giran to find a new place?"

Kurogiri shook his head. "Giran hasn't mentioned it, so I'd consider it a no."

Hizashi nodded and triple checked his hair. "A shame, _[I suppose]."_

"Just don't do anything too reckless, Mic."

The blond laughed and grabbed his electric guitar. "Sweetie, you know I'd do _anything _for an audience." The mist man was silent, and before Hizashi could say anymore, his sensor alarm flared into life. "Woops, it's showtime! _[Wish me luck and send me off with a smile!]"_

Kurogiri sighed but didn't hesitate to wave his hands, wrapping Hizashi and his platform within billowing clouds of inky darkness. "Good luck."

The lab disappeared, and was replaced by the vast warehouse, full of metal shelves and wooden boxes. His stage now sat in the centre, its iron walls already down as small bursts of pyrotechnics lit the dingy scene.

**_"[Welcome to the show!]" _**he called out, his fingers strumming the guitar as he pinpointed the heroes across the way.

Three in total stood at the entrance, all clearly recognisable in the flaring lights: Midnight, Ingenium and Vlad King.

What a turn out. Still, it would've been better if there was also-

He was interrupted by a sharp sound, and a cascade of glass behind him. All eyes glanced over, just as a figure landed neatly on the ground, body swathed in black and their face hidden by two red discs.

Eraserhead.

Right on time. "You here for the fun too, babe? Good, I've got the perfect song just for you~!"

Aizawa approached the stage, but his lenses weren't facing Hizashi: they were locked onto the three heroes on the other side. "Not here to fight _against_ you," he said, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent warehouse. "I'm here to fight _with _you."

Present Mic didn't know whether to smirk or scowl, so he chose to do neither. "Can handle myself, baby."

"I know." He stopped just ahead of the platform, his lenses flaring as his hair raised around his shoulders. "But I'm gonna stop this stupid hero-villain debate once and for all."


	22. A Madman's Mercy

Chapter Twenty-Two

**A Madman's Mercy**

"By heaven, I love thee better than myself,  
For I have come hither arm'd against myself.  
Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,  
A madman's mercy bid thee run away."  
(Romeo – Act 5, Scene 3)

"Fiends!" called out Ingenium as he took a forceful step forward. "This was a setup!"

**"Woah, did anyone say you deserved any screen time, Gundam-wannabe? Don't you know I'm the star?" **Hizashi grinned deviously, his mind still preoccupied with the thought of Shouta fighting by his side. There was a war raging inside the blond that no one was aware of.

One half wanted to save Sho from the villainous path, to spare him from it before it consumed him too.

The other half, however, imagined how _fucking cool _it would be to have Eraserhead by his side, through the shadows and the gritty underbelly of this city, just as he'd dreamed during his earliest days of villainy.

He'd see how this went. Hizashi wasn't prepared to kill any of his hero friends, and if Eraserhead came close he'd stop him, but this would be _amazing _publicity…

Hizashi's fingers struck the guitar strings as he tapped a peddle on his platform, initiating the backing track over the giant speakers. **"This is my stage, sweetie, and you're all just the backup dancers, here to make me look good~!"**

"Oh hun," called Midnight as she unravelled her whip, "I doubt anything could make you look good with that tacky outfit."

Wow, rude Nemuri.

He thought about countering with some comment about her costume (or lack-there-of)**, **but decided it wasn't worth it.

A pool of red floated above Vlad's shoulders as he bore his sharpened teeth at him. "Enough of this. We're gonna crush you both, and then you're gonna tell us where and when the _real _deal is taking place!" He rushed at Present Mic, but the puddle of red collapsed without warning, smearing the floor as his body was hurled to the side.

Vlad crashed against a wall of shelving, toppling several boxes over the larger man, and Eraserhead rolled his shoulders. "_You _don't get to touch him," he growled, and Hizashi almost grinned.

The speakers rang out with repetitive 'Da-Da-Da' voices that gradually grew in volume, until they were cut off completely by a recorded drum beat. Fingers strummed across Mic's guitar as he set everything into action. Guess he'd just be taking on Midnight and Ingenium, while Aizawa kept Vlad distracted.

His feet tapped along with the beat as he got into the rhythm, although he was careful to avoid the nine panels around his boots, set out like a _Dance Dance Revolution_ platform. For now, his guitar sounded from all speakers, the volume manageable, but that was about to change…

Ingenium raced for him, propelled unbelievably fast by his engine arms, but Present Mic was ready. He slammed his foot on the front panel. The speaker at the head of his platform flooded the room with blinding light, and the volume from it grew nauseatingly loud for all within its reach, especially when Hizashi called out with his Quirk, **_"I DEDICATE THIS NUMBER TO ERASERHEAD!" _**Ingenium skidded back from the sheer force, but Midnight was smart enough to leap out of its directional range, although this became a _terrible_ decision as his other foot landed on the upper left panel. The corresponding speaker also flared with luminous colour and roared with life. **_"WELCOME TO THE SHOW, [HEROES]!"_**

She covered her ears and he grinned as his music finally reached the lyrics, and he started to sing. This one was for Sho.

**_"[Hell had you by the throat, you never got to heaven but you got real close~ Your past has you, in a chokehold, but you deserve it from what I've been told~!]" _**Ingenium disappeared from view, but a roar of an engine from behind revealed his location instantly. Hizashi didn't even turn as he danced two paces back and slammed his rubber boot against the rear panel. The lights on the first two speakers grew dark, while the back speaker loomed, assaulting the hero with nauseating volume and his sweet, destructive vocals. **_"[Call my bluff, saying what do you want, I'm looking down at you, from the top~! I beg for attention in small doses…]" _**Tensei fled to the left. Hizashi's foot landed on another panel, forcing another speaker to life so the hero could find no peace. **_"[Leave THE SCENE SMELLING OF DEAD ROSES!]"_**

With neither of the two heroes in view, and Eraserhead off somewhere fighting Vlad, he danced around the panels at random as he lost himself to the rocking chorus and the fury of his guitar playing.

**_"[_****_LO-O-O-VER BOY~! _****_YOU'RE PLAYING THOSE HEARTS LIKE TOYS! DON'T YOU FEEL _****_BAAAD?_****_ DON'T YOU FEEL _****_BAAAD?]"_**A whip lashed out at him from his right, but he was quick enough to avoid it as he thumped his feet on the central panel, illuminating the vast room with all eight colourful speakers. His voice roared all around him. **_"[FEEL BAD FOR _****_THEEEEEM~_****_?]"_**

The shelves shuddered and debris flew in all directions.

He was _untouchable_.

-x-

Perhaps he should've asked for a device that made him immune to Hizashi's voice - not that it would've been ready for this fight. The best Aizawa could do was make sure Kan's large body blocked the worst of the waves. At least the blond was keeping Iida and Kayama preoccupied…

Vlad was giving him more trouble than he'd originally expected: after their Sports Festival fight, he must've learned how to fight well without relying on his Quirk. Aizawa was stronger now, but Vlad was naturally beefier, and they were practically matched for speed and technique.

So then, he had to outwit him.

Present Mic's song continued to echo around the room, the volume growing closer and further spontaneously as he continuously swapped the speakers.

**_["THIS IS YOUR NIGHT WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN, I'M THE OPTION YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE CHOSEN~!]"_**

Aizawa cancelled his Erasure Quirk as an idea came to mind, and Vlad King must've already noticed the tell with his hair. Red gushed from his glove and flew at Eraserhead, crystalizing in mid-air. The villain ducked beneath it and rammed his head against the hero's gut. Sekijiro flew back and he reactivated Erasure as he did so. The blood liquified and spluttered to the ground, useless, but Vlad barely noticed as he leapt back up and ran for him.

His fist collided with Aizawa's mask and sent him slamming through a row of shelves, his body landing in the next aisle over.

**_"[SCARED OF THE DARK, THE DOOR'S WIDE OPEN, THIS IS THE NIGHT YOU'LL REGRET IN THE MORNING!]"_**

Vlad broke through the shelves moments later, his glove gushing crimson as he unleashed another torrent of blood from his veins. Aizawa ducked and weaved around the barrage of red spears that lunged for him, before reactivating Erasure. The scene became a cycle.

**_"[_****_LO-O-O-VER BOY~! _****_YOU'RE PLAYING THOSE HEARTS LIKE TOYS! DON'T YOU FEEL _****_BAAAD_****_? DON'T YOU FEEL _****_BAAAD_****_? FEEL BAD FOR _****_THEEEEEM_****_~?]" _**

He forced Sekijiro to replenish his gruesome 'weapon' several more times, only to activate his Quirk and swap the location away from the previous puddles, and the effects were beginning to show. Vlad was slowing down, just as young Hizashi had after helping the ingrate over the minefield. He must've finally realised Eraserhead's plan, for even though his Erasure Quirk wasn't active, the man didn't draw any more blood with his glove.

"Fought an Erasure Quirk once," the vampire-wannabe said with a grimace. "He beat me easily, and he deserved that victory. You, on the other hand, aren't even in the same league."

**_"[AND GIVEN THE CHOICE, WOULD YOU DO IT AGAIN~?]"_**

Eraserhead lunged at Vlad King with his knife. The man dodged, but the blade successfully raked across his shoulder, leaving a deep wound in its stead. However, what he hadn't expected was for the man to use the new opening to his advantage.

Blood shot from the wound and instantly crystalized, slicing a deep gash through Aizawa's side. His skin was on fire, and to his horror, heat leaked from the wound, yet it didn't flow naturally. "Blood-Type B," grunted Vlad, a thick grin on his face as he pulled Eraserhead's own blood from his open wound. "The kind I can work with."

**_"[OF COURSE I _****_WOULD_****_! OF COURSE I _****_SHOULD_****_! I'M YOUR _****_FRIEND_****_!]"_**

He reactivated Erasure, just as a knee connected with his gut. Saliva flew from his mouth, but he managed to stave off blinking, despite the pain and sudden wooziness. The blood splattered to the ground and his knife skidded away.

**_"[_****_FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS_****_~!]"_**

Fuck.

Eraserhead swept Vlad's foot from under him, but they both slipped on the crimson puddles, and were quickly wrestling on the floor. The warmth seeped into his clothes and his side was stinging, but it couldn't've been worse than the wound he'd dealt Sekijiro.

Vlad was suddenly on top of him, pinning his wrists to the ground, and the hold on his legs was perfect, unlike during the Sports Festival. Aizawa was trapped. "You've gotta blink sometime," growled the hero.

The lights of the warehouse turned dark without warning, illuminated only by a single spotlight several aisles over, where the blond villain's stage was set.

To his added horror, Mic's guitar went dead silent.

Something primal stirred inside him: Hizashi Yamada was in danger.

He struggled against Kan's iron grip, trying to think of some way to escape. The floor was slippery with their blood, but there _wasn't enough_ to be of any help… Yet.

Aizawa cancelled his Erasure Quirk.

-x-

Sweat ran down Hizashi's face as he continued leaping and stepping from panel to panel, keeping his movements as random – yet on rhythm – as possible. The guitar solo took more concentration than it should've, and he mentally scolded himself for not practising this more beforehand.

He played the rifts without pause, and kicked a separate peddle to darken the room. A spotlight flooded overhead, and he performed at its centre.

He glimpsed Ingenium to his left and instantly stamped on the two closest panels, illuminating two speakers, but he was too distracted to notice the attack from his right.

Something wrapped around his leg – Nemuri's whip – and the world was suddenly tilting. Hizashi slammed into the ground, his solo stopped at the best part, and high-heeled-boots clicked onto the platform. He could see her colourful pheromones inching towards him, as good as a death sentence.

"Time to end this," she said, yet there was no joy in her voice.

No way was he going to lose.

Hizashi grabbed the bottom beak of his mask and snapped it shut, activating the gasmask apparatus. The backing track continued in the background, full of firm drum beats and a return of the 'Da-Da-Da' vocals.

From the other side of the platform came the thump of heavier boots: Ingenium.

He was cornered.

That was always when he did his best work.

From his belt he pulled a smokebomb and instantly activated it, just as he rolled to the side. The whip tightened around his ankle, but thankfully he knew the material composition of the weapon: it conducted electricity.

He grabbed the whip with his left hand, pressing the palm of his glove to the thick metal rope. An electrical current shot through the weapon, but harmlessly trailed against Hizashi's rubber boot. Nemuri, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky.

He heard the gasp she made as it coursed through her body, the voltage enough to briefly stop someone of her stature. Hizashi heard her collapse to the ground and he was able to kick off the whip, just as someone grabbed his arms. His masked face was shoved against the metal stage, his wrists pinned behind him, as Ingenium found him through the smoke. Okay, maybe he SHOULDN'T'VE designed his villain costume with glowing shoulder pads.

"You're under arrest!" Tensei yelled, far louder than necessary. "Tell us where your boss is!"

**"Aren't you supposed to tell me my rights, Ingeni-dumb?"** Mic grinned, although his teeth were hidden beneath his enclosed beak.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to have an attorney present at your trial. If-"

**"****_[Oh my god], _****I was joking! Don't bore me to death too!"** Hizashi tried to think of a way out of this. He couldn't yell with his mask like this. If he could reach the switch on his belt, he could activate his hip speakers and use those to blast him away with the final chorus, but… Tensei was too good. He couldn't move an inch. Damn, if Aizawa saw the way this guy was handling him, he'd-… **"You know, I bet you're pretty handsome under that mask. You should really buy a guy a meal before you put your hands all over him."**

Poor innocent Tensei… He practically _felt _the gears grinding in the hero's head. "I assure you this is in no intention a romantic or sexualised gesture! I am apprehending a criminal."

**"Apprehending? More like 'appre-****_handing_****'! You're practically squeezing my ass, and you know, my ****_boyfriend _****might get kinda jealous~" **Hizashi grinned like the fucking Cheshire cat as his voice continued to echo around the directional speakers.

"I don't think he'd-" Tensei was silenced as a boot crunched into the side of his robotic-mask, sending him reeling back. Hizashi's hands were instantly free, and someone was already hauling him to his feet.

"You're incorrigible…" Shouta's voice was a dry mumble as he tried to steady the blond. He looked roughed up, with blood splattered across him, but it was impossible to tell how much was his and how much was…

**"Vlad?"** Hizashi asked, not needing to voice the rest of the question.

"Not dead, definitely pissed."

Hizashi smirked, although his beak was still shut. **"You're the incorrigible one…"**

"Not many people would see jealousy as a positive trait."

**"If anyone gets handsy with me, be as jealous as you want, [****_lover boy], _****especially if they make me miss the final chorus. Did you like the song?****_"_**

"Now's _not _the time."

The smoke cleared at last, but Tensei and Nemuri were gone. Hizashi unhinged the lower beak, and temporarily turned off the microphone inside. "Bet they're regrouping with Vlad. What state you leave him in?"

"Few cuts. We both lost a bit of blood. Managed to lose him in the dark."

Hizashi nodded, and might've been more curious if he weren't aching and sweaty. He kicked a peddle and the warehouse lights returned, revealing the approaching figures of Midnight, Ingenium and King Vlad, regrouped. Nemuri was shaking, but standing, Tensei's mask had a crack in the side, and Kan had a few wounds across him and blood smeared around his face.

"Guess we're ready for our big showdown, baby, unless you're planning to go traitor on me?"

"You still think I have what it takes to be a hero." Eraserhead rolled his shoulders. "But there's no such thing as me becoming a hero unless you're one too. That's what we promised. So then, let's do the next best thing… Let's be **villains**."

Hizashi snorted, "Sure, babe, like I'd allow that. As much as I appreciate this spontaneous duet, I'm a solo act, baby."

"We'll discuss it after."

Mic grunted and flicked his microphone back on as the group approached, but whatever spiel he was about to spew was interrupted by a sickening sound.

-o-

The roar of explosives, the smell of gunpowder, and the force of hot air: they were fucked.

The entire building shuddered as its four corners were blown to smithereens, and the roof crumbled from the outside in. Support columns tumbled and shelves clattered to the concrete, while they stood at the centre with no clear escape.

Aizawa nearly fell over, his body weak from blood loss, and Hizashi grabbed him to keep him upright. He looked at the blond, but his mouth was agape too: he hadn't done this. Hizashi's hand moved to his pocket, no doubt planning to send a ping to Kurogiri for instant extraction, but he paused at the sight of something.

Eraserhead followed his gaze: the heroes. Ingenium was already grabbing Nemuri and the weakened Kan, but he wouldn't be fast enough to escape with them both. Then Hizashi looked at_ him_, and for a single moment his grip tightened. The ceiling creaked above them, coupled with the screech of bending pipes, and then everything was spinning.

Shouta was shoved off the platform, in the direction of the heroes. He heard Hizashi's foot slam down, the sound paired with the blinding light of the nearest speaker. His stomach dropped as he realised what was to come, and he barely managed to cover his ears in time.

Sound tore through him as Hizashi yelled something incoherent.

The force sent his body careening through the air with a mass of debris made of boxes and shelving. He didn't hit the wall, however, for there _was no more wall _for him to hit_. _The cold air tore at his clothes, but all he could hear was ringing.

What hit him hardest, however, was the water. The salt filled his mouth, burned his nostrils, but he desperately found the energy to surface. He tried to inhale instantly, but was forced to splutter several times before he could completely fill his lungs. Aizawa's wounds were burning in the ocean, and it was hard to tell if the sheer coldness was due to blood loss or the sea water.

When he looked around, he could just make out the figures of Ingenium and Midnight safe in the distance, trying to swim an unconscious Vlad King to shore – he must've been hit by debris.

Aizawa's hearing was still distorted, his head stuffed with cotton, but one word permeated the sickening daze: **Hizashi.**

He turned his eyes to the warehouse, and an icy grip filled his chest.

The entire building had collapsed with Hizashi still inside.

* * *

Song: Lover Boy by You Me at Six


	23. On Pain of Torture

Chapter Twenty-Three

On Pain of Torture

"That quench the fire of your pernicious rage  
With purple fountains issuing from your veins:  
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands  
Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,"  
(Prince Escales – Act 1, Scene 1)

Aizawa swam to shore as quickly as he could, his mind barely thinking about the whereabouts of the heroes, or the possibility of others being drawn to the location. The only thing he thought about was Hizashi. Was he okay? Had he contacted Kurogiri before the roof caved? Was he hurt? Was he…?

No! No, he couldn't be! Not when they'd finally started to talk again! He couldn't be gone!

The remains were still smouldering, especially in the four corners where the explosives had detonated. His boots skidded off chunks of broken piping and loose rubble, and clouds of dust churned the air. The ringing was starting to subside, but he couldn't hear any cries for help. It was easy to find Hizashi's buried stage as most of the eight speakers had remained standing, even with the roof collapsed on top of them.

"Mic?" he called, his voice sounding more distant than it should've. His hearing was still returning. However, he did see a flash of movement, but before relief could even lighten him, he recognised who it was…

From the cloud of dust emerged the R-Rated Hero, Midnight: Nemuri Kayama.

Eraserhead instantly fell into a fighting stance, and nearly fell over. Dammit, he'd lost a lot of blood and was now cold and wet.

To his surprise, however, she instantly grabbed a chunk of ceiling and pulled it away. "Tensei's taking Sekijiro to a hospital. Stop gawking and help!" He stared at her in amazement, and she hurled a small chunk of rock at him. "Aizawa! Fucking move! We don't have time!"

Okay, she knew, but that was a problem he could deal with later.

He grabbed at debris and tore it away. Then he saw it: a flicker of light beneath a slab of concrete that jutted through one of the speakers. "Midnight!" he called, signalling for her help, and she was at his side in moments, pulling debris away from the dying lights.

He spied blond hair and a hand, and his chest contorted. Hizashi hadn't contacted Kurogiri in time.

"Zashi!" he called as he grabbed the gloved hand, squeezing the fingers as he tried to coerce a response from him – _any _response.

For a few haunting moments, the hand was completely limp, but then…

A light tremble wracked Hizashi's arm, and slowly his fingers clamped around Shouta's, holding on for dear life. Relief rocked through him like a wave. More movement followed from beneath the slab as they cleared away more debris – the chunk of roof had made a small tent between the floor and the speaker, with Hizashi trapped in the small triangular space. The sickly lights of his shoulder pads flickered unevenly, badly damaged.

Enough rubble was removed to reveal his face and Aizawa thrummed with relief. Hizashi was awake, if clearly disorientated, but…

Blood: there was blood running down his lips.

With his free hand, the blond made a few gestures, but paused and wrenched his hand from Aizawa's so he could sign with both hands. He had no idea what he was trying to say, but thankfully Kayama understood.

She nodded and turned to Aizawa. "He's hurt his throat, and he can't move his right leg. We've gotta get him out before more heroes come."

Aizawa and Nemuri grabbed the piece of ceiling and, together, managed to haul it away from Hizashi. The scent of blood assaulted his nose. A cold chill gripped his chest at the sight.

Fuck.

His leg was impaled on a broken pipe.

Hizashi craned his neck back to glance at it, and Aizawa noticed the horrified way he clenched his teeth together. He had to get him away from here, but if the pipe had severed an artery and they removed it, there was a good chance he'd bleed out and-

Aizawa was at his side in moments, one hand on Hizashi's wounded leg while the other slipped beneath to grab the pipe above where it was embedded in the ground. The blond twisted his body, eyes wide beneath his cracked orange lenses, and the raven-haired man paused. "It's lodged in the floor. I'm not removing it from the leg."

Mic's shoulders slumped with relief, and he quickly signed something at Nemuri, although she didn't translate. Aizawa hauled the leg and the pipe up, dragging it from the cracked ground without removing it from his flesh. The sound Hizashi made was disturbing, a gargle that consisted of air, blood and agony, only ended when he was rolled onto his side.

"You okay, Zaza?" Midnight asked as she knelt beside him. Aizawa's attention was trained on Hizashi. He looked bad, with blood running from his mouth, staining his damaged mask. There was red in his hair too, and his arms were already turning sickly colours from countless bruises.

Something twisted in Aizawa's chest. A broken Hizashi: It was so similar to that sight from so long ago…

Despite the agony he was surely enduring, Hizashi answered Kayama's question with several sarcastic signs and a crooked smirk. Whatever he said, it made her snort and roll her eyes.

_You should've been stronger._

God, those words had been so wrong. Hizashi was strong. He'd never met anyone stronger, in mind, or spirit, or endurance, or…

Hizashi was stronger than him.

He'd _always _been stronger than him.

After his dream had been destroyed, the blond had grown _even stronger_, while Aizawa had surrendered. Hizashi was _amazing, _and yet, all he wanted was…

Aizawa took his hand. Green eyes looked up at him, surprised, but then Hizashi relaxed. Shouta was okay.

"Eraserhead," said Nemuri, turning to him, "get Mic someplace safe. He knows a healer."

"Right," Aizawa said roughly as he crouched, and Nemuri had to help Hizashi onto his back. Shaky arms wrapped around his neck, clung to him like he was some sort of floatation device, and Eraserhead almost fell over. He was weakened from his fight with Kan, not to mention the impact of Hizashi's 'rescue' scream and the icy swim. His clothes were sopping wet, and the blond wasn't near warm enough to offer any sufficient body heat, but he was relying on him and Aizawa refused to surrender this time. "Where's the healer?

"You think he'd tell _me _that?" she asked as she glanced around. "Get going. Oh, and we're _definitely _having a long conversation about this later. God you're both disasters… I'll keep the heroes busy. Get going!"

Aizawa nodded and (after switching off Hizashi's glowing shoulder pads) they were off, disappearing into the shadows of back alleyways, even though their pace wasn't especially fast. Hizashi's arms tightened around him, and he pressed his forehead against Aizawa's wet hair. It couldn't've been comfortable, but maybe that was the reason: the blond needed to stay awake.

"Tap twice for yes, once for no," Aizawa said as he slipped through another back alley, his ears straining to hear movement above the dull ringing. Hizashi tapped twice to show his understanding, before he nuzzled against him.

Another memory echoed through him, of the last time he'd carried Hizashi like this, when they'd crossed the finish line together during the Obstacle Course. Back then, Hizashi had been the one struggling with blood loss thanks to Kan.

How the times had changed…

Aizawa's legs wobbled, but he pushed on, and his first question was the most obvious. "You got anything to write this healer's address with? My phone's definitely busted after that dip." Hizashi tapped once for no and the Erasure villain exhaled. "Are they at least near here?" He tapped once_. _Dammit. "You able to contact the bartender?" One tap. "Your phone broken too?" Two taps.

Well this sucked… Then again, he wasn't the one with a pipe sticking through his leg, so there was that…

"The building exploded," Shouta said slowly, "was that your doing?" Rather than tap, Hizashi smacked him on the shoulder, and he could practically hear the blond's internal yell of: _WHY THE FUCK WOULD I DROP A BUILDING ON US? _He grunted, but resisted the urge to drop him. "Right, I get it. Your hearing-aids still working, I take it?" Two taps, and a flick on the temple. Right, it was a stupid question to ask since he seemed to hear him just fine.

He heard hectic footfalls heading towards them, and Aizawa slipped behind a dumpster, obscuring them in its dark shadow. Several heroes ran past, racing towards the warehouse, but none caught sight of the two weakened villains. Eraserhead shivered as he pulled them from the temporary safety and resumed their escape into the icy night.

-x-

It took _two hours_ to reach the healer's 'home', and Aizawa was far beyond the point of exhaustion. He knew his face was burning feverishly, but he'd been too focused on keeping Hizashi awake through the gruelling search to do anything about it. At least having the blond point out directions had kept them both busy.

This healer better be worth the trouble…

The neighbourhood was nice, if hilly, and the guy had a small house rather than an apartment. Aizawa stumbled up the small steps and, without hesitation, kicked the front door in. Hizashi smacked him lightly on the shoulder, but the act was half-hearted. The ruckus certainly caught the healer's attention, however, as a silhouette greeted them.

The man was huge, with hulking muscles and serrated teeth and sharpened antlers. Aizawa stumbled clumsily into a fighting stance, but was interrupted when Hizashi clapped his hands twice.

The ceiling light flickered on, revealing the identities of the two villains to the monstrous humanoid. The beast looked positively surprised, and then their face contorted in _anguish. _"Mic?" To Aizawa's surprise, the man appeared to _deflate. _His entire body shrunk down to an ordinary shape in both size and strength. He lost the serrated teeth too, but didn't lose the odd pair of antlers or the grimace. "It's the middle of the night!"

Hizashi signed something forcibly at him and gestured at his _clearly _damaged leg.

The healer rubbed his face and groaned. "I _see _that, but come on! I'm not a doctor! I'm an actor! An actor, Mic! Why don't you and Giran ever understand that? And actors need their beauty sleep…"

Hizashi was about to gesture something else, but Aizawa stepped in. His lenses turned completely red and his hair stood on end, and the healer completely froze. "Heal him, or it's curtain call."

The man didn't seem scared, however: merely concerned. "Okay, okay, relax. I wasn't gonna send him back out like _that_, I just…" He exhaled, defeated. "Just shut the door and come this way. I'd offer you tea, if I weren't so miffed with you both. I was having the nicest dream…"

The home was quaint and old-fashioned, with little knickknacks, elaborately painted plates and a barrage of carefully framed photos. Most pictures featured the same four characters: the actor, a man with tentacles, a suit of armour, and a woman with horns and devilish wings. Odd: definitely not something he expected from any healer favoured by Hizashi or Giran. He'd expect this sort of place from Recovery Girl, not a man who looked no older than thirty. He wondered what his Quirk even was. He'd expanded his body earlier, but how could that possibly equate to a healing Quirk?

They were led to a spare bedroom with a carefully knitted bedspread, although Aizawa had no qualms with placing the bleeding Hizashi on top of it. The blond took his hand for a moment, before he removed his bird-mask completely. His face was heavily bruised, his skin pale and his green eyes sunken in, but there was a slight smile as he squeezed Aizawa's fingers in appreciation. As per usual, his anger drained away.

"There's a medical kit beneath the bed," said the healer, and Aizawa automatically pulled it out. Even so, he wasn't instructed to touch the painkillers inside. "Give him the ruler."

He frowned as he pulled a wooden ruler from the med-kit. Hizashi held his mouth open, and Aizawa set it between his teeth before turning back to the healer- and almost having a _heart attack _when he came face to face with blond hair and green eyes.

There was now a _second _Hizashi Yamada in the room.

Aizawa tried to fall into a fighting stance, but he was too weak and tired to bother anymore. He just wanted to sleep forever…

"It's okay," reassured the second-Hizashi as he held his hands up. He wasn't wearing the villain costume: in fact, he was wearing the same things the healer had been. "This is my Quirk: Cellular Structure. I can change my cells: duplicate them, destroy them, transform them. Just think of me as a really overcomplicated shapeshifter." Damn, even his voice sounded a lot like Hizashi's, if not as nice as the genuine thing. "I can heal by transforming into a person, duplicating their cells, and replacing their damaged ones with… I think it's better if you just watch…"

Aizawa stepped back, letting him move to Hizashi's side, and the blond was already biting down on the ruler as he signed at his doppelgänger.

The shapeshifter nodded in understanding and looked at Shouta. "It's not in an artery. You able to remove the pipe for me? Do it quickly, like a band-aid."

Eraserhead nodded and placed one hand on Hizashi's leg while the other tightened around the pipe. The blond closed his eyes in concentration. This was going to hurt like hell…

Aizawa wrenched the pipe out, as quickly as he could. The blond made that same sound from earlier that reminded him of gurgling, and the wooden ruler creaked between his teeth. Blood spurted from the wound and soaked into the knitted quilt. It was a disturbing sight, even by his standards, but there was no trick behind this: just one hell of a pain threshold.

The shapeshifter paled at the sight. "Gross…" His hand came forward and covered the wound, but he didn't look too pleased. "This is gonna hurt, Mic."

The blond signed something and flipped him the bird to punctuate it (probably something along the lines of _'It hurts already, jackass'), _but Aizawa knew very little about signing.

The actor started 'healing' and Shouta's stomach turned at the odd sight. The man's hand _melted _into black, gelatinous ooze that sunk into Hizashi's wound. The blond gurgled in agony and was practically chewing on the ruler, his fingers curled so tightly around the quilt his knuckles were bone white. As Aizawa watched, the wound filled and appeared to close up, the black ooze taking on the same colour as Hizashi's skin, but that didn't appear to be the only place his Cell Quirk was at work…The bruises across the blond's arms lightened, and the scratches disappeared.

A vocal whine sounded from Hizashi's throat, but his mouth was too preoccupied with biting the ruler for it to be in any way coherent. Then the actor pulled away entirely, his arm _completely gone_. "Better?"

Hizashi was panting hard from exertion, successfully rendered breathless from pain, while saliva dribbled from between his clenched lips. He shakily removed the ruler and tossed it away, before he said in a croaky voice, "_That _always hurts like a _fucking bitch."_

Hizashi was okay. Hizashi was okay. Hizashi was-

Aizawa finally let himself black out.


	24. Strength in Men

Chapter Twenty-Four

Strength in Men

"And art thou changed? Pronounce this sentence then:  
Women may fall when there's no strength in men."  
(Friar Lawrence – Act 2, Scene 3)

It should've been comical really, to see Aizawa suddenly crumple to the floor, but Hizashi wasn't in any mood to appreciate it. His head was swimming, and although his injuries had been healed, he was still far from 100%.

As amazing as the healing was, it had a few drawbacks. He'd be violently sick tonight and would have to take a lot of medicine to be in tip-top shape for work tomorrow. He didn't even want to think about the imposter syndrome he'd also suffer as he tried to figure out if he was still really himself, or if he was someone else after his cells had been shifted and restored.

"You okay?" asked the shapeshifter, and it was always disorientating to see himself, like a reverse mirror.

Hizashi grunted and pulled himself to his feet, although his legs were trembling like jelly. "Better now I don't have any unwanted holes in me… Always sucks about the tattoo though…" He rubbed his lower back and frowned, knowing his trademark 'mute button' would've been healed over by the cell reconstruction – another downside. Ah well, just an excuse to get it again.

"If you found someone who could heal you _properly_, you wouldn't keep losing it," whined the shapeshifter with pursed lips, before he changed back into his usual appearance: red hair, yellow eyes and antlers. He always made himself look odd, to purposely fake an appearance Quirk. The actor was rather reliant on Hizashi and Giran, who forged documents for him so he could remain undercover. With a Quirk like his, it was better if he stayed off the grid, or else people might take advantage – just like Giran and Hizashi did. "Your friend gonna be okay?"

He grunted and knelt beside Aizawa, pressing his hand against his forehead. The Erasure villain was burning up, and his skin was pale – despite his strength and endurance, it'd really been a miracle he'd remained up and active for as long as he had. "I'll give him a blood transfusion," he said gently as he combed black hair away from his mask, "but some spare clothes would be nice."

The shifter pouted, but went to the wardrobe to fish out some clothes with his one arm. "I was supposed to have an audition tomorrow, but my arm won't be regenerated by then. Not like you to have company either. You gonna cut this guy's fingers off too and make me regrow them? I think you and Giran need a better hobby, one that _doesn't _involve me."

Hizashi rolled his eyes, changed out of his villain costume and easily stripped Aizawa of his wet jumpsuit. "Na, he can keep his fingers. Great job in that movie though – I thought you played the barista really well." His Quirk was both perfect yet ill-suited to an acting career. He could transform into any sort of type-cast he wanted, from a child to an old man, yet he required a different identity for every single audition as a result. Hizashi only knew it was him because he and Giran came up with all his fake ID names.

Perfect Quirk to land a job, worst Quirk to acquire fame. Seriously, what was the point of being famous if no one recognised you?

He didn't think too much about the irony in that question.

"Really?" His yellow eyes sparkled.

"Yeah," Hizashi said as he pulled some equipment from the medical kit so he could attend to the gash in Aizawa's side, "you told your boyfriend that you're a famous actor/shapeshifter just yet?" The redhead scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and the blond rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the healing. Next three documents'll be on the house."

The shifter's yellow eyes watched him closely. "Is this guy a villain too?"

The blond tightly bandaged the wound, deciding he would stitch it up later when they were back at home – or maybe the safehouse was a better option for now… "Sorta," he said, not planning to give anything away. Hizashi trusted this guy to heal his wounds when necessary – unlike Recovery Girl, this guy would regenerate entire limbs for him – but anything beyond that was unnecessary.

"Oh!" the shifter said with a gasp. "You're dating! Well, I'm glad you've found yourself someone who- The pipe and injuries aren't part of some weird kink, right? Like… I'm a pretty open-minded fellow, Mic, but please don't go cutting off limbs for-"

"Building fell on me. _[I haven't lost any limbs in years and you know it.]" _He finished dressing Aizawa and he finally hauled him onto his back. Shouta was heavy, but Hizashi was stronger than he looked.

"Oh, that's okay then!" He grinned. "You make a cute couple, or at least I assume you do when you're not bleeding all over my bed sheets. You gonna be okay to get home?"

Hizashi nodded as he grabbed a bag from the shifter's room and stuffed their villain costumes inside. "I'll hail a taxi and just say my 'friend' drank too much. I'll see you in your next performance."

"If you're gonna get crushed by any more buildings in the future, try to make sure it's not the middle of the night."

"_[Will do my best, hun.]" _With that said, he turned and left.

-x-

Aizawa felt _bad._

His head felt like it'd been crushed completely flat and then forcibly inflated like a balloon. He could barely open his eyes, and his ears were still ringing. His nose was blocked, and when he tried to breathe, he ended up coughing, until his lungs ached just as much as his head. God, he felt gross.

Then again, it didn't seem all bad. He was curled up someplace warm and comfortable and dark. It was more comfortable than his sleeping bag, with what could've been hundreds of pillows piled around him (although in reality was probably six), and the cold cloth draped over his forehead was a welcome juxtaposition to the heat.

He fell back to sleep shortly after waking, and although he didn't feel much better by the next time he woke, something was different this time. Gentle fingers combed through his hair, and there was a warmth beside him no pillow could produce. Shouta worked up the strength (and will) to open his eyelids, only to come face to face with two green orbs.

Hizashi smiled tenderly, the subtle tilt of his cheeks causing his large eyes to softly crinkle, and the hand in his black hair moved to caress his face. "_[Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.]"_

Aizawa grunted and his eyes glanced over the blond, but he appeared unharmed. He tried to speak, but his throat was stuffed with phlegm and disuse, and he was forced to cough a few times before any words came out. "How long out for?"

"Two days. I was planning to put you on an IV drip if you were out for much longer. Hold up." He pulled away and stood up from the bed. "I'll get you something to drink. You hungry?" He shook his head, although he knew he should've been. Hizashi nodded and said, "I'll bring you something. I've got some medicine for you too, but it'll be bad if you take it on an empty stomach."

Aizawa tried to say something, but the blond was out the room before he'd even noticed. The door was left slightly ajar, enough for a thin veil of light to cut neatly down the room, revealing his curious whereabouts. Oh, he knew this place: it was the bedroom of the safehouse.

He tried to sit up, but his arms felt unimaginably weak, so he settled for burying his face in the feathered pillows instead. Even though he'd been sleeping for days according to the blond, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep… Well, there was _one _thing he wanted more…

The door creaked open again, and although the light stung his eyes, the sight of Hizashi returning was certainly a welcomed one. "You're sick," the blond said matter-of-factly. "You lost a lot of blood, and then you froze your tits off by jumping in the sea and _then _wandering through the back-alley streets in the middle of the night." Aizawa opened his mouth to respond, but the blond covered his mouth with a hand. "I know, I know." His voice shifted to mimic Shouta's: "_I didn't plan to go for a swim and I didn't plan to wander for long, but you were horrible at giving directions. You rely too much on talking, you blabber mouth and-"_

Aizawa managed to place his hand on top of Hizashi's, successfully silencing his spiel. As he pulled the warm palm from his own mouth, he hoarsely mumbled, "Glad you're okay…"

The blond stared at him, eyes wide and _so green _and Aizawa could've lost himself in them, especially if they were any distraction from the throbbing pain in his head. Then a gentle smile crossed those soft lips, and long fingers ran through his hair. "Water." Hizashi held up a plastic water bottle and made a show of breaking the lid's seal as he opened it, as if to prove it hadn't been tampered with. The act was unnecessary: he was too thirsty to turn it down.

He downed it in record time, barely realising he'd even finished it until he heard the flimsy plastic warping as he sucked in air. All the while, those fingers ran through his hair, comforting him, and a fresh wave of exhaustion swept over him, but Hizashi tilted his head up to keep him from dozing off.

"Food." A plain biscuit was pressed against his lips and although the last thing he felt like doing was eating, Aizawa dutifully ate it. His stomach churned, but he blamed that mostly on the litre of water he'd downed like some sort of drain rather than the food. Lastly, Hizashi offered two small pills. "You able to hold onto these? I'll get you some more water for them." The blond was so close and his presence felt so nice. Aizawa didn't want him to go again. He took hold of Hizashi's hand again, and before Mic could pry his fingers away, he swallowed the pills dry. "…Well," said the blond, horrified, "apparently you're some sorta cryptid."

Aizawa grunted and found his body shuffling over. His face pressed against Hizashi's leg, and although the raven-haired man felt burning hot, the warmth from the other villain was pleasant. Those fingers smoothed his fringe back and tucked it behind his ears, skin brushing against the small black stud.

"Get some rest," his beautiful voice whispered, and Shouta happily obeyed.

-x-

When he woke again, he felt a bit more like himself. Something warm and soft was pressed against his chest, and at first he imagined it was a pillow that'd absorbed his own body heat, but when he pressed more against it, it _moved._

"Ngh…" whined a familiar voice, and he realised his 'pillow' was a sleepy Hizashi Yamada. His face was pressed against the blond's chest, with the blond's arms wrapped around him, as if he were sheltering Shouta from something unseen.

It felt rather nice… Although it would've felt far nicer if he hadn't been covered in twenty layers of sweat, or had a bladder that felt like it would burst at any moment. Aizawa groaned as he amicably shoved Hizashi away so he could get out of bed, but his legs almost gave out beneath him when he did so. Damn, he still felt like shit.

He heard the blond yawn and stretch behind him. "_[Good morning, Sunshine,]" _Hizashi said, his voice growing closer as he crawled across the bed. "How're you feeling?"

His throat was still sore, yet felt less like a pipe stuffed with sandpaper than it had when he'd last been awake, which was an obvious improvement. Even without feeling his own cheeks, he could tell his fever had broken. Even so, he rolled his shoulders indifferently and tried to stand up again, only to have a hand support him. "Don't need help," Aizawa grumbled, his voice raspier than he'd hoped.

"Too bad, I'm helping anyway." Hizashi pulled his arm over his shoulder. "You were really my hero, you know…"

"Don't call me that…"

Despite the words, Aizawa finally relented and leaned against the man as he led him from the dim room. They turned on lights as they went through the hallway, and the man knew it was night, but had no clue how long he'd been out for. Hizashi was wearing pyjamas, so he'd had time to change, but that still didn't give him a good estimation. How much work had he missed?

"You really pushed yourself," the blond continued, "and the heroes would've arrested me if they'd found me. I was pretty fucked…" He laughed a little. "You were in a pretty bad state too, Sho. You're lucky we've both got B Blood since I had to give you a transfusion. Kan really kicked your ass!"

He grunted. "You have weird contacts."

Hizashi snorted as they reached the bathroom. "You talking about my shapeshifter bud? He's a decent actor, but has the survival instinct of a brick. His Quirk's a lucky find though – the limb regeneration was… necessary with training to be a good information broker."

Aizawa tilted his head at him, "…Training?"

Hizashi's hair slipped before his face, hiding his expression. "To be an information broker, you've gotta keep your mouth shut, even if you fuck up and get captured, no matter what they do to you… Let's just say, Giran was a very thorough teacher…"

An old scene between Eraserhead and Giran flashed through his mind and his stomach churned.

_People've tried that before, kiddo. Pain ain't enough to make me a sell-out. You torture me, you won't hear shit, and you'll lose the best contact in the industry._

Fuck… What had Hizashi put himself through to get to this stage?

Present Mic must've sensed the shift in atmosphere, for he moved the fringe from out his face and smiled brightly. "Hey, don't get down on me, babe~! _[It's fine!]_ If UA knew what a pain threshold I have now, they'd probably forget everything about my 'weak constitution' and make me a pro-hero on the spot!"

"…You're strong," Aizawa admitted, although his throat seared as the words slipped out. "You've _always_ been strong."

If Shouta were expecting some profound response, he didn't know the blond as well as he thought he did. "I wasn't," he replied far too casually, "but I am now. _[Now I'm stronger than all of them.]"_


	25. Price

Chapter Twenty-Five

Price

"If I do so, it will be of more price

Being spoke behind your back than to your face."

(Juliet – Act 4, Scene 1)

Hizashi left Shouta alone to do his business while he started running the bath. He'd thought about having a shower with Sho, but at least he could have his hearing-aids on in the bath if he kept the temperature lower and tied up his hair. Thankfully he'd washed his golden locks earlier, but no way was he about to pass up an opportunity to bathe with Shouta, even though he vowed he wouldn't do anything remotely scandalous.

Aizawa was sick, and Hizashi wasn't evil (or desperate) enough to prey on him when he was like this.

The door creaked open and Shouta stepped inside, leaning against the frame. His eyes were sunken in, his hair oily and messy, while his shoulders were slumped. Even so, he looked better than he had the previous day, and the day before that. "My job?" Aizawa murmured, his voice raspy and deep, and it took Hizashi a moment to decipher his meaning.

"I contacted the EXTRO-Dancer and sent 'em a fake doctor's note," he said as he tested the water with his hand. There was a bit of steam, but not nearly enough to affect his expensive hearing-aids. "Your job is safe, but your hygiene currently isn't. Come on, we're having a bath."

He'd expected Aizawa to rebuff the offer at least a little, so even he was surprised when the man instantly pulled his shirt off and started removing the borrowed pants as well. "Sharing?"

"Someone's gotta make sure you don't drown," Hizashi said as he stripped himself of his own pyjamas without batting an eye. "The water's kinda tepid. I've gotta wear my hearing-aids, but-"

"It's fine," he said as he stepped in the water and sunk down. Hizashi rolled his eyes, but wasn't offended: the last thing Aizawa needed right now was a lecture. The blond finished stripping and joined him in the tub, sitting behind Eraserhead. If the wannabe-villain had been in his right mind, there was no way he'd willingly let Hizashi near his unguarded back, but right now he was too sick and zoned out to think of any potential consequences.

Potential consequences like having his back washed by Hizashi. The blond ran his hands over the sharp ridges and outlined his spine and shoulder blades before he kneaded the warm skin between his fingers. The tracker was still hidden, a slight raised area that was barely noticeable, but Hizashi avoiding touching the spot. There were a lot of muscle knots elsewhere, and the man made no complaints as Hizashi caringly massaged through each one. Aizawa was like putty in his hands, soft and compliant, unlike his usual demeanour. A coy smile played at his lips, but he didn't let it go to his head – Shouta was only letting him touch him like this because he was sick.

Aizawa leaned into his touches and sleepily mumbled, "You shouldn't've taken care … me… You might've got sick too…"

Hizashi laughed gently and tenderly massaged Aizawa's neck, pressing his body closer to his. "Baby, my health is perfect. You should see all the vitamins I take!"

Shouta grunted. "Tattoo's gone…"

"Yeah, my healer's Cell Quirk considers it an injury and heals it over. I'm surprised you didn't think I was him shapeshifted as me."

The man shrugged and Hizashi's hands moved up to his thick shoulders. However, Aizawa leaned back against his chest and pressed his head against the crook of Mic's neck. "…Feel it too…"

The blond's brows creased, but it didn't take him too long to realise what his meaning was as Aizawa's fingers entwined with his own. Every touch sent that gentle thrum coursing through his limbs. The man's acknowledgement of their unspoken connection made his head feel light, and he affectionately squeezed Shouta's hand.

This felt so soft and easy, without any mind games between them.

Hizashi nuzzled the top of Aizawa's hair, not minding at all that it was oily with sweat, but it also gave him the idea to wash it. He grabbed a jug from the side of the tub and tenderly rinsed away the sweat and massaged sweet shampoo into his dark hair. Aizawa hummed and continued to lean into him, dozing off.

"Hey," Hizashi said softly, "we can sleep after our bath. You okay?"

Aizawa grunted but kept his eyes open this time. "Kayama knows…"

He nodded as his fingers continued to comb through soft, black hair. "She's known my identity for a long time, ever since school… I had to tell someone…" Unlike Tensei, she'd noticed his sudden spending habits after his new 'profession' became lucrative, and she'd confronted him just after the miraculous fall of SYN, when his future had still been spotty.

He expected Aizawa to ask him what her reaction had been, and he was already deciding how much honesty he'd be willing to give, but instead Eraserhead asked, "…How'd you do it?"

"How'd I do what?"

"I didn't know," he said, voice even softer. "Could never take my eyes off you, but… I never noticed it, Zashi. You just … always looked so _happy..."_

Hizashi swallowed and gave himself time to think over a response by rinsing the shampoo from his hair and starting on some conditioner. "I had some good advice," he said dismissively with a smile.

"Would've been hard…"

"Guess I got used to it." He massaged the conditioner thoroughly through his hair, revelling in the soft texture, even as he hesitantly asked, "Sho… Why are you a villain?"

The man grunted, his eyes fluttering shut again. "System failed us…"

Hizashi nodded, his smile successfully dampened.

After the Sports Festival, Shouta had shoved everyone away. Had he not been a villain-in-training, Yamada would've tried to fix the rift between them, but the past was long since set in stone. _No one _had ever breached the barrier between Shouta and the world. In high school, Hizashi had been _glad_ to see the General student perpetually sitting alone: even though the blond had dated like there was no tomorrow, the thought of_ Shouta_ seeing anyone…

He _wasn't _the jealous type, but…

Secretly and selfishly, he'd been glad to realise come graduation that Aizawa had never dated _anyone_. At the time he hadn't realised the full extent of the matter.

He hadn't only remained single, but Shouta had never even _befriended_ anyone. He'd been alone.

Fuck. He'd been completely _alone._

Hizashi had been dragged into villainy by others, and he'd thought he'd spared Aizawa from that fate, but he'd unknowingly fallen on the complete opposite end of the reason spectrum:

Due to his alienation, Shouta Aizawa had sentenced _himself _to these violent delights.

He'd been so lonely that, after only a short conversation, he'd kissed Hizashi in the photocopier room seven years ago. Yamada had avoided Shouta to spare him, but in pushing him away, he'd condemned him all the same.

Aizawa exhaled in his arms and leaned further into him, his back pressed flush against Hizashi's chest. He was falling asleep again, and although he knew he should've gently chided him, all he could do was wrap his arms around Shouta and place several soft kisses in his soapy hair.

The past was the past. From now on, he'd make sure Sho was never lonely again.

-x-

It took a week for Aizawa to feel like himself, and even that was putting it generously. He slept a lot, and his appetite grew while Hizashi nursed him back to health. The wound would scar, but was well on the way to healing.

He was left alone a lot – Hizashi was a busy man – but Shouta had never been concerned by it. The blond always left the door slightly open, as if to assure him he wasn't trapped, and once he'd been strong enough to walk, Aizawa had explored the safehouse and, sure enough, the front door hadn't been barred. He was free to go whenever…

Despite this, he stayed. His strength returned slowly, but that wasn't the reason he hadn't left…

Each night he'd share the bed with Hizashi. Often, he came home late, smelling of smoke and sweat after a DJing gig, but the first thing he'd do would be to beeline for Shouta and make sure he was feeling okay. Hizashi was good at hiding his exhaustion, but as soon as his hearing-aids were out and he was in bed, he was out like a light. He'd always pictured the blond as someone who would roll around and be restless for hours on end, and maybe he was, but with his busy schedule he was an almost-instant sleeper.

Aizawa had thought long ago that sleeping with someone would be annoying.

They might snore, or roll around, or generally keep him _from _sleeping, but… sleeping with Hizashi was **nice.**

Sometimes Aizawa awoke to find the blond already in bed, having arrived home without waking him. That wasn't an easy feat. On these nights, Hizashi would be on the other end of the bed, with a good metre between them. Shouta didn't know what to do on those nights – he wanted Hizashi pressed against him, but he was never sure whether he could close the gap himself. It was easy when the blond initiated physical contact.

Typically Aizawa would just go back to sleep, until he had … _that _nightmare.

Booing, jeers of hate, and screams of execration filled his slumber, but that was never the worst part… The wall that separated the two sides of the arena parted to reveal the young Hizashi Yamada, always more and more injured with every repeated terror. Amongst the roar of the bellowing crowds, he searched for the sound of haggard breathing, but never found it.

In the dream, Hizashi's broken body was still and silent.

He woke up sweating, only to see the blond's back facing him from a metre away. Aizawa watched the gentle rise and fall of his beautiful body, lit very faintly by the sickly green light of the electronic clock.

Was he breathing, or was it just an illusion?

Without thinking, Aizawa moved over and wrapped his arms around the blond, holding him tightly against his chest. Hizashi gasped and tensed in what was undeniably fear, and a hand grabbed his wrist, probably leaving finger marks on his skin. Shouta released him immediately and the blond turned around, green eyes wide with panic, but he physically deflated as recognition crossed his face.

"Sorry," he said, louder than necessary, "I don't have my hearing-aids in. Guess you made me jump!" He laughed it off, but there was a quaver in his voice.

Aizawa stared at him as something clicked: Hizashi slept in the same room with him, despite his lack of hearing-aids…

He went to say something, but then he realised the blond wouldn't be able to hear him, so instead he cautiously moved his hands forward and swept some golden strands from his face. Hizashi's breath brushed over his fingers, and that simple detail offered far more comfort than it should've.

Shouta moved his body forward and pressed their foreheads together.

Relief thrummed between them, and the rest of their bodies followed the simple touch. Aizawa wrapped his arms around Hizashi and the blond linked their legs together. Nothing more was said as they fell asleep in that embrace. After that night, even if Shouta was sleeping, the blond would disturb him temporarily to slip into his arms, and the raven-haired man never grumbled a word of complaint.

Eventually, however, he was back in proper condition. When Hizashi was out, he worked on muscle exercises between naps, and even found quite a few books in the apartment to keep his mind sharp. There was a study with a computer, but it was password protected, and his phone was still busted from the dip in the ocean.

Eventually, it was time to leave and check out his own apartment.

Aizawa hurried through back alleys towards his home, but he paused when he caught sight of something. Graffiti had been smeared across the wall in bright orange paint with the disturbing words of:

**RIP PRESENT MIC**

Eraserhead stopped and stared at it in shock. The paint appeared slightly worn, so it was definitely a few days old, and he'd briefly seen Hizashi this morning as he'd prepared for work, so he wasn't concerned for the blond's safety, but…

Mic was keeping something from him.

He beelined for his apartment, only to stop in his tracks _again _because **it wasn't there**.

The side of his apartment building had a _hole in it, _covered up in thick police tape and old black scorch marks. The sight of it reminded him of something, and after a few silent moments of staring at his ruinous life, he realised what he'd forgotten during his fever.

In the warehouse, the roof hadn't collapsed because of Hizashi's odd attack style: someone had set up the walls to detonate.

Someone had tried to _murder Present Mic _and had then _tried to murder Aizawa_, and for some reason the people thought they'd succeeded.

He went back to the apartment and waited impatiently for Hizashi to return.

-x-

The blond hummed happily as he packed away his things for the day. He'd grab them some takeaway on the way home, like some fried chicken from that Korean joint on the corner. Usually he avoided fried food to save his figure, but he doubted Shouta would mind if he let himself get a little 'comfortable'. Whatever weight he added would be trained off anyway when he next hit the gym.

"You've been extra excited lately, Hi-Fi." The blond turned his head to look at Power Loader, who had just finished clearing up his own workstation.

Hizashi grinned and slicked back his hair. "Really? Guess it's cause I'm sharing my bed with a real cutie~!"

Higari nodded, a small smile beneath his costume's helmet. "I'm glad you've finally moved on from Aizawa. You deserve to be happy."

He paused. Right, he'd never mentioned _who _he was sharing his bed with, and the reason they'd initially broken up had been because of his phone background. Hizashi smiled more sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. "Actually… it _is _Aizawa."

"Oh…" The temperature seemed to drop, but maybe he was just being paranoid. "And you're both… okay?" He felt Higari's eyes glancing over him, searching for something. "I know you have a… tense history…"

Hizashi narrowed his eyes and accusatorily asked, "Are you insinuating he's violent?" Power Loader was silent. Something coiled in his chest. "Look, whatever you think about Sho is _wrong_."

"Is it?" asked a _very _different voice. Hizashi and Higari turned to face the door, where a large man had just entered the room, his small eyes set on the blond. Sekijiro Kan's expression was set like stone. "Yamada: just the man I wanted to see."

The blond swallowed lowly and squared his shoulders. He was praying this was totally unrelated to the recent fight, but just by looking at the man, he knew he'd fucked up. "Please excuse me, Higari." He walked to Kan. The man was larger than Hizashi in every way, and although he was still a sidekick, there was talk about him being upgraded soon to pro-hero status. Kan stepped to the side to let him pass, and as soon as they were in the hallway, Vlad spoke again: "Somewhere where there aren't cameras. I know you'd know the perfect spot."

He did, but he just silently led him to it without explanation: the utility closet. The cleaners wouldn't be in for a while and mostly everyone had already clocked out of this section. As soon as the door was shut behind them, the blond was shoved against the wall, with a thick hand squeezing his shoulder. Vlad hadn't activated his Quirk yet, but Hizashi was already at a great disadvantage: the room was too small for his Voice Quirk and he had taken off his taser glove for work.

Hizashi didn't struggle from his grip, just looked up at him calmly and smiled a thick grin. "Sorry, baby, but I ain't single right now. Although I don't plan to be single again, if I ever am then feel free to catch me on the rebound. I know you're-"

"I know who you are," Vlad said, cutting him off completely. "I know who you _both _are, and you better give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't haul your asses in this moment."

His smile dipped, but didn't disappear. "You're gonna have to be a lot more specific, baby."

The grip tightened, but the pain was nothing. He knew Kan well: he wasn't in any physical danger. "Don't get smug with me, _Present Mic. _I don't know how you and Aizawa managed to escape, or what sort of stunt you're pulling by donning a stupid costume and attacking your friends, but you better give me some answers _now."_


	26. An Honourable Villain

Chapter Twenty-Six

An Honourable Villain

"Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical, dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seem'st:  
A dammed saint, an honourable villain!"  
(Juliet - Act 3, Scene 2)

Hizashi sighed and rolled his shoulder, but Kan didn't release him. "It was my blood, wasn't it?" The blond smiled a little brighter. "You woke up before Tensei got you to the hospital and, despite your condition, you forced him to take you back to the scene. I had a bud send people to clean it up before any forensics could arrive, but you would've got there before them." He laughed a little as pieces fell into place. "It's weird, isn't it? Being able to recognise a person's blood so long as you've controlled it before… How can you tell exactly?"

Kan looked torn between answering and not answering, but eventually he murmured, "The smell."

"Well, congratulations, you found me out, but you're not going to arrest me, Kan, for the same reason Nemuri never has."

His small eyes widened in surprise. "She knows?"

"For a long time. Ask her yourself."

He narrowed his eyes, but pulled his phone from his back pocket. His firm gaze never strayed from him, even as he called her. "Nemuri. Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest _Present Mic _and _Eraserhead, _and why I shouldn't bring your own loyalty into question." There was some talking over the phone, far too faint for Hizashi's hearing-aids to pick up, but Kan's face said it all as it went from furious, to disbelieving, to calm within moments. He swallowed. "That explains Hizashi, but what about Aizawa?"

More quiet talking and Kan eventually nodded once. His hand fell away from his shoulder and he hung up without saying anything more to the woman. Time stretched between them, filled only with their soft breathing. Something else seemed to click on his face, something disheartened.

"You never did give me a straight answer as to why you didn't want to date me… I guess this explains it."

"You're a good man," Hizashi said honestly as he straightened up his shirt. "I was young and inexperienced and I didn't want to risk dragging you into anything I couldn't handle. I had to keep all relationships at an arm's length, and you deserved more than that."

He glanced away, clearly unsure as he leaned against the door. While he wasn't going to kick him into jail thanks to Nemuri, there was still a lot to talk about. "They could kill you."

Hizashi rolled his shoulder – he'd have a few bruises tomorrow. "They tried already. You think I'd blow up a building with myself still inside? I barely had enough time to save you chumps, let alone my own hide. _[Talk about a close call.]" _He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "You're a lot alike, you know, you and Sho… You were both suffering from blood loss, and hyperthermia, yet you still pushed on… And I bet you didn't tell Tensei about my blood either." Kan was silent and Hizashi stepped forward, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "You're a true hero."

Kan deflated a little. "The Aizawa I fought eight years ago was far superior to the man I fought in the warehouse. The student actually knew what he was fighting for."

Hizashi smiled. "It's okay: I'm stronger now. I'm strong enough to save both of us."

"You don't have to do anything alone, Hizashi… You don't … have to keep being a villain. If what Nemuri said is true, then… I can help you, and Nemuri and-"

Yamada flicked his chest to silence him. "You remember what they said about me after the sports festival, right? I was too reliant on others. I was too reliant on Sho, I was too reliant on Nemuri, I was too reliant on Tensei, and… I was too reliant on _you_." He took the door handle between his fingers, although Kan was still leaning on it, halting any chance of escape until the conversation was over. "The only one who can help me now is _me_."

Vlad stepped to the side, face pained as he let him go. "You could be a hero, Hizashi. Sho might be too far gone, but you're not."

He laughed, low and almost menacing. "Oh, don't let my demeanour fool you too, Sekijiro: I'm _far _more gone than he is. Besides, he and I made a promise to become heroes _together._"

With that said, Hizashi left, and Kan didn't stop him.

Yes, he'd buy his Shouta some fried chicken on the way home and they'd have a nice meal together, just like a normal couple, and for a time he'd pretend everything was perfect. However, when he checked the tracker on his phone, he couldn't keep himself from making a face.

Sho _was _at the apartment, but the history of the device told him he was in for a _different _confrontation. He glanced back in the direction of his office: guess tonight would be as good a time as any to give Shouta what he'd been working on.

-x-

Aizawa paced back and forth, restless as he waited for Hizashi to return home. He was running late, and the man was growing anxious – _no, _he was _angry, _and he was going to stay _angry!_

The door finally opened and his pacing ended abruptly. He was ready to slam Hizashi against the wall and squeeze answers out of him, but before he could he saw the blond smile and lift up a bag. "I bought us fried chicken for dinner! There should be some beer in the fridge too, so we can celebrate! _[Party time, yeah!]_"

Shouta was caught off-guard. "…Huh?"

"I know what you're thinking," the blond said eagerly as he beelined for the kitchen with the food – damn it smelled good. "_'Celebrate what?'_" he asked in Shouta's voice. "Well, people think we're dead!" Hizashi set the bag down and busied himself by pulling several bottles of beer from the fridge. "Well, sorta – they think _Present Mic_ _and Eraserhead_ are dead, so it's time to celebrate!"

Aizawa stared at him. It was _impossible. _He wanted to be so angry at the idiot, wanted to scream at him and accuse him (for completely justified reasons) but whenever he was there, it was impossible. Even when he said things that were crazy and aggravating, even when he betrayed his trust and lied to him, whenever he smiled at Shouta, whatever he'd done became no more serious than a child lying about brushing their teeth.

So, he calmly asked, "What the _fuck _are you talking about, Yamada?"

He placed the beer on the table and started dividing the food onto two plates for them. "I meant what I said: people think we're dead. Don't worry, it's all part of the plan. _[I'm a genius, after all!]" _The blond undoubtably wanted him to ask questions, but Aizawa didn't give him the satisfaction as he waited in silence for him to explain. Hizashi eventually swallowed and continued without any prompting. "Before the warehouse fight, I had Nemuri place cameras all around so I could get some footage. Of course, then the building exploded and-"

"_Why _did it explode?" he asked, voice grating as he forced the words out. "Were they the same ones who blew up my apartment?" Hizashi winced and nodded. "Who tried to kill us?"

"Simon: the man I called that night, who I said you'd betrayed. Someone must've tipped him off about me." _That _set off an alarm.

"Tipped him off about _what _about you?" he asked suspiciously, and the blond openly hesitated. He'd hit something.

Hizashi stopped unpacking the chicken and instead busied himself with wrenching the cap off one of the beer bottles. "Whose side do you think I'm on, Sho…?"

Aizawa had never considered the question again since Hizashi's phone call and his admission that he'd been selling out Hero HQ for years, but now he reconsidered it. That answer was too simple for someone like Present Mic, a man who'd been able to hide his villainous identity right under the nose of UA, the best hero school in all of Japan, since he'd been fifteen.

Then again, these thoughts didn't matter, for they all led to the same accusation he'd made when he'd first discovered the blond's identity. "You're not a villain." Hizashi Yamada stopped fiddling with the bottle, but didn't look over at him, and Aizawa narrowed his eyes. "You're not a villain, but you're not a hero either…"

"I _am _a villain. In fact, I'm the _worst _sort of villain: one willing to sell out _other_ villains for my own gain." He pressed the lid of the bottle against the countertop and smacked it with his fist. The cap flew off and foam splashed over the bottle's sides, pooling on the floor. Hizashi screwed up his face and searched for some paper towels. "I'm on **_my side_**_, _Sho. I help Kurogiri and Giran because they're like a second and third father to me. I know it looks like I'm always fighting Midnight, but I've been _helping _her, and Tensei too – without his knowledge of course. It's what I've done for years: make a big scene and tip them off so they can clean it up and get all the credit." He knelt and cleaned up the spillage. Somehow his reveal was no less dramatic, despite the oddly mundane annoyance. "Didn't you think it was strange that both of them had already been promoted to pro-heroes? That's all me, baby! I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to be a popular villain, but I'm not stupid enough to not have any back up plans…"

"'Back up plans'?"

He finished cleaning up and tossed the paper towels away. "There's a reason I try to be so over the top when it comes to my attempted debuts: I need people to focus on the event, rather than the aftermath. Enough bells and whistles, and they'll ignore my non-existent body count." He rolled his shoulders, as if it were nothing, but Aizawa could hear the uncertainty in his words.

"…Why?"

Hizashi smiled bitterly. "If shit hits the fan, I'll still have options, but if I kill someone, those options narrow considerably."

Shouta shook his head as he tried to fathom the overload of information, but it was a lot to take in. "So, what've you done specifically to piss off this 'Simon'?"

The blond smiled coyly, just as devilish as he could. "I have a deal with Giran and Nemuri, you see. I find out the location of deals – drugs, weapons, you name it – and I let her know the location. I then tell the one behind it that the deal's been found out, and they have two options: if they hire Giran's services, they'll have a smooth transaction, but if they don't, I discover their new location and let the heroes do what they will. True sometimes it goes the opposite way, where I'll sell out a hero's weakness, which is doubly easy since I help make their tech, but really it depends on my mood and which is more profitably … or exciting~"

"So, Simon found out you were the snitch."

"I guess…" He pursed his lips and sipped his beer. The chicken was getting cold. "He mentioned once on the phone that he had a new informant, and due to everything I wasn't able to figure out where the actual deal happened until only recently. This new informant must be pretty smart…" There was silence as he mulled something over, before those emerald eyes glanced back to the chicken and the original topic re-emerged. "Celebration! The media thinks we're dead!" He pulled out his phone, pressed it a bit and tossed it to Aizawa.

He caught it and watched the screen, his eyes widening at the sight. It was an online clip of the building falling right on top of Present Mic. The clip ended as the camera was smashed, revealing no footage of the eventual rescue. His shoulders trembled at the reminder of how lucky he was to even be _talking _with the blond when he could've so easily died back then.

Fuck, he didn't want to be angry at him. A building had landed directly on top of him, and yet he'd been the one taking care of Aizawa! True the blond had had some healing help, but…

Hizashi continued before he could give it too much thought. "The only ones who know we're alive right now are Giran, Kurogiri, Nemuri…" He paused, as if to stop a fourth name for emerging, and ended his sentence there with a nod. "They won't tell Simon we're still alive, and Giran's managed to find it for me: his hideout! So, lover boy, we are gonna get revenge!"

"…We?"

The blond sighed and approached Aizawa, his expression difficult to read. "Sho… I _really _don't want you to be a villain, but…" He looked conflicted. "But I _need _to take this guy out, and there aren't too many people I can trust right now… Here: I have a present for you."

Hizashi drew forth the second bag and held it out to Aizawa. He took it cautiously and opened it. His heart skipped a beat, but he hid his reaction. "I only fulfilled one request."

"Help me take out Simon and his informant, and you can keep it. _[It'll look good on you.]_"

Aizawa pulled the bundle of cloth from the bag, and although it didn't look like much, he knew what this was: the capture weapon he'd designed with Hizashi. "How does it work?"

The blond took the cloth from his hand and wrapped it loosely around his neck, where it bundled around his shoulders like a long, thin scarf. "With enough practise, you'll be able to manipulate the fibres by throwing it out and manoeuvring it. I've got the basics figured out and I can teach you those, but it's not a weapon type that fits my style. _[Too drab.] _You've got one week to learn the basics, although I bet it'll take years to master. Think of it like Nemuri's whip: remember when she wrapped it around your leg? Similar concept, but a bit more difficult as you'll be using the centre of the fabric instead of the ends."

"And you'll give it to me if I help you take out Simon? How do I know you're not just using it as a ploy to make me seem like a hero?"

"…He tried to kill us, Sho." He smiled, a low and menacing smile. The anger beneath the words was practically palpable. "He tried to kill me, and Nemuri, and Tensei, and Sekijiro and _you._ Not only that, but he has this new 'informant'. Giran and I are the best in the business, and we don't take too kindly to competition."

"You just said you wouldn't kill anyone, Zashi."

The blond shook his head but the smile remained. "We do this right, no one will know it was us at all. You in, Eraserhead? Here, let's make it a promise. I promise I won't betray you."

He offered his hand and Aizawa stared it down. Wasn't this what he'd always wanted since his days as a student? To be at Zashi's side, helping him and protecting him?

As Hizashi held out his hand, however, an ill feeling took root in him. Every inch of his body screamed for him to refuse, to turn down the logical alliance, as if to warn him of the eventual unforeseen consequences, but this was something he'd wanted for too long. Besides, Hizashi had made a good point: this 'Simon' had tried to kill his Hizashi.

If Mic didn't kill him, Eraserhead would.

Shouta reached forward and squeezed their small fingers together.

Warmth flared between them, the same thrum they'd felt since the innocence of youth. Their pinkies were now linked, as they'd been the day of their last promise, and once again that simple act surrendered them to the cruelty of fate.

In promising to walk a path together, they'd unknowingly steered their ships towards different destinations. The consequence of this promise was the self-same consequence of the promise from eight years ago.

In linking their fingers, they would inevitably be wrenched apart.

"Good to have you on my side," Zashi said with a wry smile. "Let's eat, _[Dearest Listener]."_


	27. Kiss by the Book

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kiss by the Book

"You kiss by the book."  
(Juliet – Act 1, Scene 6)

Aizawa had a week to train with the capture weapon, and he wasn't planning to waste any of it. Whenever Hizashi was at work, Shouta was training alone in the safehouse, and when he _was _home the blond was helping him with the theory of it. It definitely would take years to completely master, but it'd certainly be useable by the time he and Mic raided this 'Simon's' lair.

Tomorrow was the day.

Hizashi came home with takeout – Aizawa had learnt very early on that the blond didn't cook – and they sat down to eat together. "Everything's ready for tomorrow?" the Erasure villain asked while devouring his noodles with a set of chopsticks.

"Yeah, but we need to sort out the plan." Hizashi picked up a pen with his left hand, while still eating noodles with his right, and drew three squares inside one-another on a sheet of paper. "The building looks a bit like this, with Simon in this centre area. Your job is to quietly take out the goons for me until we reach him. My style's loud, so I'll be taking care of the tech security on the way, but when we're in the centre I can deal with Simon. If I'm too loud too early, it'll give him an opportunity to escape, and everything will be ruined."

Aizawa rolled his shoulders and murmured, "Your plan to betray me really bit you in the end."

Hizashi snorted. "_[So bitter!]_"

"So, we go in, I take out the small fry and you take out Simon."

The blond nodded and stood up while finishing his final bite of noodles. "And I need to find out about this new information broker. Giran and I aren't too fond of competition, especially on our turf."

Aizawa watched the blond's back while he busied himself with cleaning up. It was strange for Hizashi to suddenly be so okay with killing someone but, then again, he did have a good motivation…

No, that wouldn't be enough. Hizashi always thought five steps ahead, so what was the deception here? He wouldn't be able to make Eraserhead out to be a hero without portraying himself as the same, but…

"Show me how good you are with the capture weapon," the blond said as he finished washing up.

Aizawa ate the last of his takeout and threw the paper box into the recycling bin as he got to his feet. "On you?"

"Yeah, let's spar. I'll judge whether you're good enough for tomorrow or not." He straightened his clothes up and beelined for the living room before Aizawa even agreed, but there was no reason for him to decline.

The raven-haired man stood up and pulled on the capture weapon as he followed behind the blond, an odd sense of Déjà vu tensing his shoulders. This week had been full of those moments where he'd remembered back to how he and Hizashi had trained for the Sports Festival, when they'd sparred and talked tactics with a clear goal in mind, and for the first time, Aizawa wondered what their younger selves would think if they saw what they'd become.

Young Shouta would show his disapproval through disappointed silence, while young Hizashi would plead with him to change, even if he was already a goner.

He really had forgotten a lot from those days. Hizashi had been stubborn and determined back then as well, and despite the annoyance those qualities had put him through, Aizawa smiled a little. When he really thought about it, not much had changed after all.

"You thinking of me?" Hizashi asked with a toothy grin, but Aizawa didn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was correct as he activated his Erasure Quirk at the wall, careful to keep his gaze from the blond.

The capture weapon lifted from his shoulders, floating and shifting like curtains in a breeze. "You okay to spar like this?" All the furniture had been removed from the room, allowing a reasonable amount of space to train, even if it was still restrained.

"Course. In a fight you'll have Erasure active, meaning it's better if you train to compensate for the weird anti-gravity." Hizashi snickered a little. "I wonder if my hair would float too, if I got too close to you. I guess we already know it doesn't work like that though… Start in seven seconds."

Aizawa nodded and listened as Hizashi sucked in oxygen slowly to fill his lungs, and they started as soon as he turned his Erasure Quirk on the blond. He noticed the tension ripple through Mic's shoulders, but his body didn't jerk this time – he'd been prepared for it. Hizashi moved first, throwing a fist at Shouta, but although he could've easily stopped it with his own fist, the point was to use the capture weapon.

He flung out several bands to wrap around Hizashi's wrist, but the blond managed to twist his arm before they tightened enough, successfully worming his way from the grip. Hizashi pivoted to the side, fast, and swung around with his other fist. He was too close to send out the capture weapon, so Eraser grabbed the length with both hands and pulled it taut. Hizashi's fist hit the fabric and it elasticised him a few steps back.

With the added distance, Shouta had no issue flinging the weapon out and wrapping it around Present Mic's shoulders, and then the rest of his chest like a snared fly. He habitually pulled him close, planning to punch him in the face - as he would with any other attacker - but before his fist landed he reminded himself this was a training session.

With no fist to stop him, Hizashi landed against Aizawa's chest. The sudden warmth of the blond was enough incentive to stop using his Erasure Quirk, but perhaps he did so a tad too soon as both his hair and the rest of the captive weapon instantly flopped. The cloth wrapped around both Hizashi and Aizawa, accidentally tangling them together.

With Erasure removed, the blond was able to inhale, and the first thing he did with that breath was laugh. "You could be better, but I guess you'll be good enough. Just don't get carried away with it." As he spoke, his breath lightly caressed Shouta's cheeks, so close yet so far.

Their chests were pressed together, and although Aizawa's arms were free, Hizashi's were pinned to his sides. It was another display of undeserved trust that he didn't try to struggle away… Or maybe there was another reason he wasn't trying to escape…

Their faces were so close. Aizawa couldn't help but glance at the lips he had kissed seven years ago, framed perfectly beneath the small blond moustache, and the act didn't go unnoticed by the blond. Aizawa swallowed as they drifted slightly closer, like two magnets on the verge of connecting. "Such a compliment," he said, his breath swaying some hair from the blond's face, and his voice was deeper than intended.

Their noses touched, the sides pressed gently together, with Hizashi's face slightly tilted, yet still they hadn't kissed. Aizawa was struggling to keep his heart from racing. Butterflies were stirring in his stomach, and he almost wanted to curse himself for that detail: he'd already fucked Present Mic, so how come kissing seemed so much more intimate…?

… Because this _wasn't _Present Mic: this was his Hizashi Yamada.

The distance stopped closing with a few centimetres left between them and he heard the blond swallow. Damn he was so warm against him. "Guess it'll be good practice with untang-…"

Aizawa brushed their lips together, not in a kiss but in a silent question. He felt the shiver that ran through Hizashi's body, and noticed the way he swallowed again in clear anticipation as he very subtly nodded his head, and that was all the permission he needed.

Their lips linked together perfectly, as if they'd been made for this moment. His eyes slipped shut as he focused on the pleasurable thrum that now felt like electricity between them, and while one hand pressed against the small of Hizashi's back and pulled him ever closer, the other came up to cup his warm face.

He parted the soft lips with his tongue and Hizashi didn't resist. Even though Mic still had more experience with this sort of thing, Shouta knew how to kiss now, and he ravaged the man's mouth until he was trembling in his arms. He tangled their tongues and massaged the areas that were sensitive, paying close attention to Hizashi's reactions.

When he licked the roof of his mouth, he squirmed; when he massaged the sides of his tongue, he purred; and when he explored the back of his throat, he whined. However, even when he was at Shouta's mercy, he was still far from hapless. Hizashi's lips wrapped around Aizawa's tongue and sucked, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine, ending in a very particular area.

He hadn't really thought much about the last time they'd had sex, but suddenly that was all he could think about. Hizashi had felt so hot and tight, and the sounds he'd made had been beautiful (even if they'd hurt his ears). He even thought of his fantasy from the bar, of Hizashi lying on a bed, face flushed his lust and his lips swollen from kissing.

Their hips dragged together, and the sharp pleasure was enough to pull him from the thought as the real thing purred in his arms. Aizawa drew away first, completely breathless, yet the blond wasn't even panting. Saliva glistened around their lips, and they were still connected by an opaque string of it.

Hizashi's face was flushed, and the sight of his lusty expression sent another rush of pleasure to his groin. Fuck, he was so beautiful.

"You've gotten better," the blond said, voice sultry and teasing. Moments later, Aizawa had the tied blond against the wall, their mouths locked in another fierce kiss. His fingers tangled in the short golden hair, pulling and angling his head this way and that so he could kiss him harder, kiss him better, kiss him in a way that was satisfying and all encompassing. Hizashi gave as good as he got, and soon Aizawa felt hands in his own dark hair. Somewhere in the frenzy, Hizashi had freed his arms. That knowledge just made Aizawa kiss him even harder.

Hands soon pulled at the capture weapon in an effort to untangle it, and after a lot of clumsy wrenching and thrusting they were free of the cloth, but not of each other's lips.

When he kissed Hizashi, he never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. He didn't care about the past, or about the blond's conniving nature: if he could keep kissing him like this, then none of that mattered. Perhaps it was more of an obsession than love, but so long as he could call Hizashi his, he was content.

They inevitably stopped kissing, albeit briefly, just so Aizawa could breathlessly urge, "Bedroom."

Present Mic nodded and kissed him quickly, before he dragged him towards the room. The bed was unmade, as Aizawa never saw the logic in making it when it was only going to get untidy again, and for once the blond didn't complain at the messy sight. He pushed Aizawa down on the sheets and straddled his hips eagerly, their lips reconnecting almost instantaneously.

While he'd had fantasies of the blond against the bed, he had no qualms at all with the thought of Hizashi Yamada riding him instead – especially when he pulled his shirt off. The view was stunning – far better than the sight of rain running down bricks.

Hizashi leaned down and kissed at his neck while rolling his ass against the forming tent in his pants, while Aizawa squeezed lightly at his hips, helping to ease the movement. Lips moved to his ear and the tongue played with the small black stud. "You're even sexier when I can see your face~"

He brought his hands up to Hizashi's face and cupped his cheeks, drawing him close. However, he didn't connect their lips: he pressed their foreheads together and looked directly into the blond's beautiful emerald eyes. "Why is it like this?" he asked softly, and he saw surprise and confusion in those orbs. He swallowed and carefully explained, "Why does this only feel _like this_ when I'm with you?"

Warm breath brushed against his lips as the blond exhaled gently, as if the comment had rendered some sort of epiphany for him as well. "I love you, Sho," he said, his eyes soft and the words warm as they brushed over his skin. "Ever since I met you, I've been crazy for you… Even when you hurt me, even when we weren't talking, even when… Fuck Sho," he said with a broken laugh. "Sho, we're so fucking _bad_ for each other. We're so bad, and I know it, but I don't wanna _be_ bad. I…" He swallowed and pulled their faces away so he could wrap his arms around him and bury his face against his neck. "I thought I wouldn't care… I thought I wouldn't care if I couldn't have you, so long as I stopped you from being a villain, but… I _love _you and I don't…" He swallowed again as he searched for the words.

"…We work well together," Aizawa offered gently, his hand brushing through short blond hair.

Hizashi nodded against him. "Fuck it, Sho. I don't care anymore. I don't care if we're both heroes, or if we're both villains… fuck, I wouldn't even care if you were a hero and I was a villain, because I _love _you Sho, and I know we're bad for each other, but we're also perfect. There must be a reason why we feel this way whenever we touch… It's like we're…"

He didn't say the word, but Aizawa knew what he meant. He'd be lying if he said he believed in things like that, and certainly someone as smart as Hizashi didn't believe either, but…

"UA betrayed us," Eraserhead said gently. "Let's bring this city to its knees - together."

Hizashi nodded and pulled away, his face still flushed, and something fluttered in Aizawa's chest.

Maybe this wasn't obsession: maybe this _was_ love.

Unable to find the words, he simply leaned up and pulled Hizashi into a softer kiss. Why had they waited so long for this? Seven years was such a long time…

Their lips parted and Aizawa held him close so he could bite and suck at his neck again, planning to leave as many marks as he possibly could on the soft skin. The blond moaned eagerly, and his hips resumed their delicious thrusting against his crotch, while his fingers hooked around Aizawa's shirt and wrenched it off. He teasingly traced his muscles, adding sharp pinpricks of pleasure as fingernails mapped him and caught lightly against dips and rises. Damn it felt good.

His own hands found the button and zipper of Hizashi's tight jeans, and they were both more than happy to push things onwards. Pants were quickly removed and boxers rubbed against briefs, both equally constraining in the situation. Hizashi reached for a drawer and pulled a bottle of lube from its depths. "Wanna do the honours?" he asked coyly while offering him the bottle.

Aizawa looked him over, and grinned. "Want to watch you."

The blond openly shuddered, and although Aizawa thought the reaction was to the comment, he was surprised when instead he said, "I love your smile."

He was taken aback by the comment – or at least he would've been had Hizashi not flipped open the bottle and smeared his fingers with thick liquid. His hand disappeared into his briefs and Aizawa watched for the tell-tale canter of his hips, the soft whine also telling him he'd been impatient and undoubtably started with two fingers as opposed to one. Ever willing to be of service, Shouta rubbed at the front of his briefs, and he was happy enough to grind against the touch.

"You're beautiful," he said, the compliment slipping out involuntarily, but the reaction was delicious as Hizashi moaned and toyed with his left nipple.

"Talk to me, baby~" Hizashi pleaded, his face flushed as he kept fucking himself on his long fingers. "Tell me how good I look~"

So histrionic… Still, Aizawa was in a good mood.

"Sexy," he encouraged roughly. "You look sexy like this, when you're sweaty and shuddering and moaning for me." The blond whined and his hips cantered: three fingers. "Be loud, Zashi. I'm not gonna punish you for it." The 'mute button' tattoo had yet to be replaced, but that only pleased him – he loved the blond's voice.

"Oh baby," Hizashi moaned, saliva running down his lips and his hips rocked back and forth on his fingers, "I'll be as loud as you want me~" Aizawa chuckled darkly and slipped his hand into his own boxers to bring out his hard length. Hizashi eyed it and licked his lips, his face turning a few noticeable shades darker. "Mmmm, you know what I want, baby~" He gasped as he removed his fingers and pulled off his briefs, the front damp with precum. Aizawa eyed the naked blond with hungry eyes.

Hizashi guided himself over to Aizawa's thick shaft, pausing only briefing to smear a cold handful of lube up its length. He shuddered, but was pleased by the few firm pumps the blond gave him. He was quickly lined up, and Hizashi wasted no time impaling himself on his shaft.

They cried out at the same time. He fit so snuggly inside the blond's body, and the utter heat was mind-blowing. Damn, it felt so good. One arm wrapped around Hizashi's shoulder, while the other held tight to his hips to keep him in place as he pulled Hizashi down. The blond was too startled to stop the shift in position as their chests met, and the hand on his hip shifted to his ass.

He stifled the gasp by linking their lips together in another passionate kiss, and within moments Hizashi was kissing him back, even when Aizawa rocked his hips up, ensuring he was completely sheathed.

Fuck he loved this.

-o-

Damn he felt amazing with Shouta reaching his very depths, parting him deliciously with a slight ache, not to mention how amazing it felt to kiss him. He'd dreamt of this for years, but had never imagined it would ever come true. Fuck, he was so glad it was now a reality.

Before Hizashi could move, Aizawa was moving for him, bucking his hips in and out while the tight grip on his ass helped him meet each thrust. It was hard and rough and Hizashi was already drooling over the treatment as his length rubbed between them, already leaking pre-cum.

He didn't want anyone else to touch him like this.

Hizashi had been planning to bounce on him, but this was just as good. He thrust his hips back with Aizawa's hard thrusts, moaning and gasping each time his sweet spot was hit. Already he was seeing stars, especially whenever the thrusts were paired with Eraser biting or sucking at his neck. Fuck, he'd have so many marks to show off.

He was almost disappointed to realise he was already so close to climaxing - or he might've been disappointed had it not felt so _good. _"Sho~" he mewled, thrusting his hips back even harder. Aizawa didn't even need to touch his length: the friction between their bodies would be enough to drive him over the edge soon enough. "So close~ Fuck~"

Shouta's hands held firmly to his waist, undoubtably leaving bruises there too, and his last few thrusts were enough to push Hizashi over the edge. He saw white and felt warmth pool between them as he finished, although his cry was silenced with a firm kiss. While Aizawa's tongue ravished his mouth, Hizashi felt his own body tense as the aftershocks of pleasure rocked through him, and soon enough he felt Shouta finish inside him.

The blond whined happily into the kiss as he rocked his hips a few final times, milking Aizawa for all that he had, but he was mostly distracted by the amazing kiss. Arms wrapped around his back, and even as they came down from their pleasured high, their lips and tongues continued to move together in an intimate dance.

Damn. Shouta was an _amazing_ kisser.


	28. A Name

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A Name

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose  
By any other word would smell as sweet."  
(Juliet – Act 2, Scene 2)

Hizashi curled up against Aizawa's side, finally satisfied after a few hard rounds of sex. He felt like having a cigarette, but that would involve walking across the room to grab a pack, and he just didn't have that sort of energy at the moment. Besides, he was comfortable enough like this, with one of Sho's arms holding their naked bodies close, with the scent of sweat taking up his attention.

He wanted every night to be just like this one.

Shouta's fingers trailed over his skin, caressing loving lines across him, and Hizashi knew if he were a cat he'd _definitely _be purring. "This is much better post-coital than last time, don't you agree?" he said with a Cheshire grin.

Aizawa hummed sleepily. "Better than getting drugged."

The blond laughed gently and peppered a few kisses across Shouta's chest. "I'm going to be feeling you for days~ Hopefully I'll be able to focus tomorrow."

"…I'm going to kill him," Aizawa said, voice deeper than usual. "He nearly killed you, and I won't forgive that."

Hizashi shook his head. Shouta was such a wildcard: it was something he loved about him, but also something that could interfere with his plans if he wasn't careful. "You leave him to me. I don't want you to dirty your hands. You're better than that."

Eraserhead's fingers stilled. "… You think far too highly of me."

"Maybe I do," Hizashi agreed softly. "…You know, I lied when we first met." The raven-haired man glanced at him, and he sheepishly tugged at a small chest hair. "I wasn't lost. I'd already memorised the school's entire layout through maps, long before I ever set foot there. I was late because of traffic, but…" He swallowed. "I saw you beneath our tree. I went to wake you, but you looked so peaceful, and… I thought you would be scared, getting told off alone. I figured… if we were _both _in trouble for missing the entrance ceremony, everything would be okay."

"… Are you okay with this?" Aizawa asked gently, his hand creeping up to brush Hizashi's short blond hair. "With us being villains together?"

"No," he said honestly, his heart aching away in his chest. "But let's not just be Eraserhead and Present Mic. Hizashi and Shouta _can _be together – they can be _good _together. Let's… Let's give them the chance. I need you, baby, and I'm…" He exhaled heavily. "I'm _tired…" _There was so much weight in that single word.

Aizawa's fingers gently brushed his fringe from his face, and they locked eyes. "Quit."

He blinked in surprise. "Quit? Quit what?"

"Quit building support ware for Hero HQ," he said, although he didn't say it forcefully. "If you hate it, then you should quit."

Hizashi laughed. "Good joke, _[Dearest Listener], _but there are _way _too many reasons why that's a no-go."

"You could get any job you wanted, Zashi," he said, and the sheer honesty in his mellifluous voice almost took the blond's breath away. "Don't settle for one you hate. It's illogical."

He glanced away. "Not _any_ job…"

Aizawa's fingers gently took his chin and made him meet his gaze again. His eyes were piercing. "Zashi… You can still become a hero. Think about it: you haven't killed anyone, your input has led to the arrests of dangerous criminals, and there's the big debate about Present Mic's affiliations already. You're smart and determined, and…" Aizawa's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "At school, they told us what the sign of a true hero was…"

Hizashi didn't really know what to say, but his mouth recalled the mantra with robotic ease. "All-Might's words… When your body moves to help someone, before you can even think."

"In the warehouse, _you_ saved us from the explosion_. _You threw away your own wellbeing to save us four, and you nearly paid the ultimate price." He cupped Hizashi's face and pressed their foreheads together. "Hizashi… You could be _anything _you wanted to be… You're already a hero."

He swallowed, unsure at first how to respond, but the words emerged gently without any thought. "I _want _to be with_ you_."

Aizawa's body relaxed beneath him, and he closed his eyes as he heavily sighed. "You're incorrigible…" He pulled the blanket up so it covered both of them, and gently stroked Hizashi's hair. "I'll protect you this time."

"…Don't kill anyone," Hizashi said gently. "Even if you're a villain, or else I won't be able to protect _you_…"

Shouta grunted and held him close. Sleep was upon them in moments.

-x-

Finding the building was simple enough with Giran's careful instructions. Aizawa scoped the way ahead while Hizashi lagged behind, as they'd agreed upon. The grimy city lights reflected briefly off his crimson lenses and he slipped from alley to alley, going completely undetected by the few guards stationed around the warehouse. Their eyes scanned the dark methodically, yet they didn't realise the danger they were in until it was too late.

From the darkness emerged thick threads of cloth. It happened so fast the two guards couldn't even scream before their mouths were stuffed and their bodies were dragged through the cold night air. Aizawa wasted no time in knocking them out and hiding their unconscious forms inside a nearby dumpster, before signalling to Mic that the coast was clear.

The blond emerged from the darkness, his feet moving softly across the pavement, and Aizawa couldn't help but watch.

His short blond hair was slicked up, disturbed only by his usual headphones. He'd ditched the glowing shoulder pads for ones which were brown and more subtle, and his red pants were now the same black leather as his jacket. Present Mic didn't have his guitar this time, and his mask had been too damaged and would need to be built again from scratch.

His face was hidden by a pair of orange specs and a black surgical mask that could easily be removed.

Aizawa stepped forward to meet him, but his feet caught on his dragging capture weapon. He almost fell over, but managed to catch himself just in time. He still needed a lot more experience with the weapon…

"Good job," the blond praised as he reached his side. "Let's hope you keep impressing me, baby."

Aizawa grunted and moved his hand forward, brushing it against Hizashi's in a silent reassuring gesture, which was returned as the blond touched him back. Then Eraserhead was moving, slipping through the doorway and instantly concealing himself in the nearest shadow.

-x-

Hizashi watched Aizawa like a hawk whenever possible. His body moved so assuredly and gracefully, it almost made him jealous: acrobatics were _not _Hizashi's forte. Still, his heart swelled as he watched, and a smile lingered on his lips. It almost made him wish this was as simple as he'd assured Aizawa it would be…

_Almost_.

Simon had nearly killed him and his Sho, and all his friends too: simply murdering the kingpin would not be punishment enough.

Hizashi crept through the shadows as Aizawa went on ahead, clearing the way for him. He thought about Simon's newest information broker, yet he had no clue who they could possibly be. Giran had known nothing either, but he hated competition as much as he did.

Present Mic's goal was simple, yet tricky: he had to capture both Simon and his information broker alive without getting Shouta any more involved than he already was. Even so, if Aizawa got to Simon before him, it would be a disaster…

"…Eraserhead," he said softly once everything was clear and they were alone again.

He couldn't keep doing this.

The raven-haired man stopped and turned to him, the dim warehouse lights reflecting off his red lenses. Hizashi wasn't scared of the intimidating sight, however: he'd never be scared of his Shouta. "Hm?"

The blond sighed. This wasn't a good time, but that was on him: he needed to be honest with Shouta or else he'd push him away for good.

"I lied," he confessed quietly, "about killing Simon." Aizawa was silent, so Hizashi continued. "I'm gonna capture him alive and hand him to Nemuri for imprisonment…"

"…How were you going to do it?"

"Was hoping you'd be too busy with the lesser thugs and I could slip through and confront him alone, but…" He smiled bitterly, although it couldn't be seen beneath his surgical mask. "I can't keep doing this, can I? Can't keep you in the dark and expect you to still want me… It's true what I said, Sho: I want to be better. This is me _trying _to be better." He reached out and entwined their fingers. "You understand? _[We can't kill him.]"_

Aizawa stared at him through the lenses, expression hidden behind the villainous mask. "You're wasting time," Eraserhead said, catching him by surprise. "…I won't kill him, Mic." He took Hizashi's entire hand in his and reassuringly squeezed it. "Thanks… for trusting me."

The blond squeezed back, but they had no more time to talk as their mission continued. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from Hizashi's shoulders.

He could trust Shouta.

He watched, his chest swelling happily, as Aizawa took out guard after guard. Damn he was amazing… The villain was sometimes a little sloppy with his capture weapon, but that was to be expected. Mostly he stuck to his knife and fists, but he followed Hizashi's order to a T: he didn't kill any of the guards.

Soon they reached the centre, but there was a buzz among the guards here: they must've been alerted to their presence somehow. He only hoped Simon hadn't fled…

It was Hizashi's turn to make some noise.

His hip speakers flared with life and from his belt he pulled a microphone. Aizawa noticed his movements and stepped back, out of the blond's intended direction. Simon was just in the room beyond…

"**_[ARE YOU READY FOR THE SHOW, LISTENERS?]"_** he called. The two men at the door instantly covered their ears, and Aizawa lashed out with his capture weapon. He grabbed the duo and pulled them together, knocking them out on the other's skull.

Hizashi pulled out his phone.

"I'll do the rest alone, Eraser," he said as he pressed several buttons on his device, setting an alarm. "He has a manipulation Quirk. I know how to work around it, but…"

Aizawa nodded. "I'll stand guard out here, but I'll come in if I think you're in danger. I… have faith in you, Mic."

An electronic panel sat beside the door, but a quick shock from Hizashi's taser glove caused it to malfunction. The way was open.

-x-

Hizashi burst through the doors, his speakers swaying on his hips.

Sure enough, Simon hadn't run. He lounged in an armchair, kicking his feet about like a child, and when he saw Hizashi he smiled. "[Well, well, well,]" said the kingpin while waving a hand, "[I don't actually believe in ghosts, but it seems you've proven me wrong.]"

The room was vast, and at first Hizashi was disappointed to find Simon alone, until he saw a cage positioned just beside the armchair. The kingpin's foot kicked against it, and whatever or whoever was inside squirmed unhappily.

Hizashi grinned from ear to ear. "[What can I say? I live to prove people wrong.]"

"[I suppose you do,]" Simon agreed, "[but we should really fix that 'live' part. You always did make a mockery of vocal quirks.]" Hizashi opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted as the kingpin hummed.

His stomach turned and his shoulders froze as the music wrapped around him and his vision became blurry. Every muscle in his body became unresponsive. Somewhere in the fog, his mind clumsily forced out the Quirk's information.

_Vocal Quirk: Siren. Anyone who hears the user humming falls under their complete control until either the user stops or the sound becomes inaudible._

His body was so heavy and stiff, as if he'd been banished to the confines of his head, all thanks to Simon the Siren.

_Stay calm,_ he told himself. _You're prepared._

Without warning, his limbs moved of their own accord. Each step inched him closer to Simon, and he noticed a glint of metal in the kingpin's hand. Usually this was when the villain did his grand monologue, but Simon couldn't stop humming and Hizashi's mouth refused to work as his feet carried him closer and closer to the awaiting blade.

Right, he was just planning to make him walk straight into it. How _boring…_

He felt something different: a vibration in his back pocket. If he could've smiled at that moment, he would've as the alarm he'd set only minutes ago finally turned on.

Good thing he'd already set the device to Bluetooth directly to his hearing-aids.

The music of his alarm instantly filtered through, blaring instrumental directly into his ears: loud enough to block out the sound of Simon's humming. It felt as if his world expanded as he regained control of himself.

Simon tried to rush at him with the knife, but Hizashi's reflexes were faster as he grabbed the kingpin's wrists and shoved him to the floor.

_"[__**Guess who's got the better vocal Quirk, listener? Don't struggle, or I might hit something.]" **_He pressed his surgical mask close to Simon's ear. He wasn't sure if the man was trying to say something, since he couldn't hear him anyway. **_"[It's time to get some sleep~]" _**He pulled the prepared syringe from his belt and injected it directly in Simon's neck, rendering him unconscious in mere moments.

The man's body slumped and Hizashi straightened up and silenced the alarm on his phone. The room felt deathly silent after all the noise, and he felt the urge to check his hearing-aids over before he turned his attention to the cage. What was inside? Some sort of pet?

He sat beside the bars and glanced inside. It was awfully cramped, with a creature inside that would've probably only reached around Hizashi's knees.

The creature shook its head as if to clear it, the small rounded ears bobbing, and it then looked directly at the blond. Anyone else would've brushed it off as some dumb animal, but Hizashi was instantly transfixed by the intelligent look in its beady eyes.

The blond examined the creature, but already knew this discovery was unlike anything he'd ever encountered before. It looked like a large white rodent, yet its paws and tail were more akin to a cat's, and a horrific scar cut across the right side of its face. The naked beast looked him over with the same interest, as if it were studying him – no, it _was _studying him.

"You're Simon's new informant?" Hizashi said while tilting his head, voice uncertain.

"And you're Present Mic," the creature said back warily, stunning the blond.

Internally he was freaking out. Was this some sort of mutation Quirk, or was this an actual animal that'd undergone experimentation? Externally, however, he was calm. The blond scratched the back of his neck and crinkled his eyebrows in surprise as he looked down at the rival 'information broker'. Wow, Giran was gonna get a kick out of this…

"You got a name too, or did Simon the has-been just give you a cage?"

The mutant mouse stood up, its rounded ears pressing against the uppermost bars. It was small, only reaching around his knees, yet held the upright position without any issues. So, the creature could talk _and _walk on two legs… "Nezu," it said carefully, as if it had never been asked the question before. "You may call me Nezu."


	29. Quarrel

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Quarrel

"Thou hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street  
because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun.  
Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet  
before Easter? With another, for tying his new shoes with old ribbon?  
And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling!"  
(Mercutio – Act 3, Scene 1)

Hizashi scanned the beast over again as his mind set to work on summarising the situation.

This creature- … _Nezu_ was **_smart_**_. _He didn't know what knowledge reservoirs Simon had given him access to, but if he felt the need to keep him in a cage… Hizashi had never even known of the creature, yet Nezu must've informed Simon that Mic was the snitch, and he had discovered a new area for the deal that'd been difficult for even Hizashi to uncover…

He was smart, and that could be a problem.

"You've put me in some hot water, Nezu," the blond said while tilting his head the other way.

Something flashed in those round eyes. "A clever trick," it said with a small smile, "to use an acquaintance's name in conversation to build subconscious rapport. A very telling slight for those who notice."

Hizashi grinned. "You think I won't kill you because I said your name?"

"It is harder to kill a beast with a name. Besides, Mic-san," _that _caught his attention, "I think you will find I can be very useful while alive. My intellect far surpasses ordinary human capacity, and I don't require much sustenance. Just as I did with Simon, I can offer you my informative skills in exchange for my life."

Hizashi paused, and his heart fell a little as he stared at the intelligent creature stuck in the cage. Why did the sight remind him too much of himself?

"And if I let you go?" Hizashi said at last, rendering Nezu speechless. "I don't need an informant, yo, since I'm_ already_ the best in the business, so keeping you caged up in my basement really wouldn't be ideal, _[especially since I don't even have a basement]_."

"…What's the catch?"

Hizashi shrugged as he searched Simon's pockets for the key to the cage, eventually finding it around his neck. "Don't get tied up in villains again, especially ones who're going to treat you like… _this_."

The mouse was silent as he watched him, as if expecting some betrayal, but Hizashi just undid the lock and stepped back. Nezu tested the door and recoiled in shock when it swung open, and Hizashi backed up some more to make it clear he wasn't intending him any harm.

How long had Nezu been kept in the cage? No… Had he ever _left_ it before? What even _was _he?

At the same time, Aizawa stepped inside the room. Nezu instantly ducked back inside the cage. "You were taking too long," claimed Eraserhead, and the blond rolled his eyes a little. "What's the hold up?"

Hizashi waved at him. "I'm making a friend! You able to grab Simon for me _without _killing him?" Aizawa nodded and moved forward, his lenses focusing curiously on the rodent.

Nezu's nose twitched, and then his eyes blinked in confusion as an awed expression took root. "You smell of each other."

Hizashi couldn't stop himself from grinning a little in faux-bashfulness. "You hear that, babe? We should've showered for longer." Aizawa grunted and hoisted Simon on his shoulder. There was a bubbling anger in his movements: he didn't agree with Hizashi capturing the man alive, but he trusted the blond's decision.

Hizashi was already looking forward to rewarding him later.

"It's not something I predicted, for the two of you to be so close to one another," Nezu said, rather cautiously. "After all, _you're _villains."

"We are," the blond confirmed, "but there's a difference between being a villain and being scum. I guess sometimes it's good to do something heroic… _[So yeah, you're now super free!]"_

Aizawa lightly kicked Hizashi in the ankle, catching him by surprise. "We shouldn't leave your new 'friend' here. More guards might appear and kill him."

The blond quickly re-evaluated Nezu's situation. He was smart, but he'd potentially been raised in the cage and had zero experience with the outside world. Right, freeing him and then leaving him to his own devices wasn't as heroic as it should've been. "Okay Nezu, you should come with us. I'll take you to our safehouse and you can learn all you need to know about the outside world. You won't be trapped," he assured, "and if there's anything we can do to make you feel more comfortable, then just say the word!"

The rodent looked suspicious and for a moment Hizashi thought he'd reject the offer, but then he stepped out of the cage at last. "I want some clothes."

-x-

In the end, Aizawa was the one who took Nezu back to the safe house while Hizashi delivered Simon to Kayama. Eraserhead was still pissed by the blond's change in plan, and it had taken all of his willpower to not finish the man while he was unconscious. Despite that, he could understand why Hizashi had chosen the different revenge route.

If he were dead, then his suffering would be over. The heroes would keep him alive, but locked up to wait out the rest of his days.

Hizashi had put his faith in him, and Aizawa didn't plan to make him regret it.

"You going to sell us out?" Eraserhead asked as they entered the safehouse. Thankfully it was late at night, so he'd easily slipped through the streets with the rodent hidden in the folds of his capture weapon as he'd returned home.

"I calculated you weren't dead," Nezu said as he used the capture weapon to rappel down to the wooden entranceway. Aizawa stopped to close the door and remove his boots before stepping up on the landing. "However, I didn't tell Simon since he seemed so certain of your demise. Telling him his elation was unfounded would've put him in a tumultuous mood."

The rodent sniffed the air and pulled the large jacket closer to his frame. Aizawa moved to the kitchen to make himself a coffee and Nezu followed behind like a puppy. "If Mic thinks we can trust you, I'll trust you."

The rodent sniffed again. "Should you be so ready to trust _him_ though?" His keen eyes focused on Aizawa. "You've got a subdermal tracker, after all."

If Nezu was expecting some big display from Aizawa, he was left disappointed. Eraserhead slipped his hand over his back and brushed his fingers over the small bump beneath his jumpsuit. "I know."

"Do you think he doesn't trust you?"

"I'm not as smart as him, but I'm not an idiot. He _doesn't_ trust me," he agreed, "but I trust him. I've known about the tracker for a while."

"Affection clouds judgement," suggested Nezu as he opened the cupboard with his paws and pulled out a small blue jar with white spots on. He sniffed it over – the sleeping drugs. "Are you sure you're not being deceived?"

"If you're trying to spread doubt in my mind, it isn't going to work."

The creature looked up at him curiously, before placing the jar back and _smiling. _"I've never known humans who were in love before, but I can smell it between you. _That's _the only reason I decided to trust you."

Aizawa pulled off his mask at last, setting it down on the bench as he started making himself a coffee. "Want something to drink?"

"I've always wanted to try tea."

-x-

Hizashi stopped in at Kurogiri's bar on the way back to the safehouse, mostly to check in on Giran and let him know what'd happened with Simon. It was empty of everyone but the two parental figures, who were currently locked in a game of cards. They stopped when he entered.

"Mask still busted?" Kurogiri asked as he scanned over the orange glasses and the surgical mask.

Hizashi nodded and sat himself beside Giran. "Yeah, will take _ages _to get it fixed! Gotta put a few things on hold 'til it's all better. Guess people just gotta think I'm dead for a bit longer."

"How'd it go with Simon and his new broker?"

"Let's just say, Simon's going away for a _long _time," he said with a grin as he removed the mask and glasses. "The info broker isn't a person though. He's actually an animal, yo, with crazy smarts. Simon's been keeping him in a cage, so I set him free."

Giran frowned and pulled out his box of cigarettes. "Was that really wise?"

He rolled his shoulders. "I was trapped in Support because of my smarts. Can't stand by and let the same thing happen to another innocent."

"I meant, was it wise to keep Simon alive?" Giran clarified. "He's a big fish, at the dead centre of all dealings with America. I know you wanted revenge – I did too – but what if you've stirred up things too much? There's a vacuum of power, and you don't know what contacts he really has outside of Japan. Eyes are gonna open and they're gonna look right at us, kiddo."

Hizashi shrugged. "I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. I don't have it in me to be the 'bigger man', especially when someone tries to hurt people I care about…" He shot a sideways glance at Giran. "But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you…?" Both Kurogiri and Giran fell silent, and Hizashi laughed. "You thought I didn't know?"

"You ain't holding it over me, kid," Giran grumbled as he lit his cigarette. "Your 'mother'," he gestured at Kurogiri, "told me about your little boyfriend issue. I just did what any father would."

"And so you took down SYN to save my life…"

Another silence, but this one was briefer. "SYN was already on its way out," Giran justified at last after taking a long drag of his cigarette. "I just sped up the process so your death wouldn't be a waste…"

Hizashi shook his head. "You didn't care about the consequences then, and I'm not going to be swayed now…" He smiled more softly and put his hand on Giran's back, catching him by surprise. "…Thanks, old man…"

The broker exhaled a puff of smoke and placed his hand on Hizashi's arm. "You were worth it… You were worth _everything, _and I don't regret it_. _Even so, this is different. If you'd killed him, that would've been fine. The man had many enemies in the underground, and dead men can't talk. However, handing him over to heroes _alive_… You're risking the entire underground network and all his global contacts with that move – even yourself. When I took down SYN, I made sure to get all the higher ups: not just one. A bigger fish is gonna come along, and they're not gonna be one of your adoring fans, to say the least."

Hizashi simply shook his head. "Then let 'em come, old man. Let 'em come."

-x-

When Hizashi got back to the safehouse, he found Aizawa and Nezu eating takeaway pizza in the kitchen. The blond stared at the sight in awe. "…Did you order pizza to the safehouse?"

Aizawa grunted. "We were hungry."

He eyed the three empty boxes and scratched the back of his head. "I can see that… You leave any for me?" The man pointed to the fridge and Hizashi pulled out an extra box that was still warm. "How're you feeling, Nezu?"

"Who knew that aged animal products would taste so delectable!" The rodent devoured slice after slice. Hizashi wasn't so sure if pizza would upset the creature's stomach, but he let him decide that for himself.

The blond eyed the oversized jacket the rodent still wore, and hummed a little. "If you like, I can sew you up some clothes for your size. I'm more of a tech builder, but I know my way around fabrics too. _[I'm super talented, after all! I can do anything!]_"

"Except cook," clarified Shouta.

"Except cook."

"I'm still unsure as to what you wish for in terms of repayment. Could you clarify for me?" The creature had an odd accent, but Hizashi was just surprised it knew Japanese at all, considering it had worked for the American Simon.

"You just have one sweet gig to remember, _[dear listener], _and then you're as free as a bird!" Hizashi chimed as he shoved his pizza in the microwave. "Forget we exist and keep your nose clean, and you can be on your way when you're ready."

"See, that's the part I'm uncertain of, for the cost of my freedom is worth far more. Such an unequal trade is not to your benefit," pointed out the rodent as he finally stopped gorging himself on the greasy food.

Hizashi rolled his shoulders and pulled the box from the microwave, taking a bite of his own pizza. He was hungrier than he'd thought he was. "Tell me how smart you are, Nezu. If I was to want your assistance, what could you offer me?"

"I can speak fluently in nine languages," declared the rodent, catching him by surprise. "I have a map of the entire city memorised, as well as several main districts beyond, and I'm capable of completing complicated math problems in less than three point four seconds!"

Hizashi felt odd at that. This small creature was hyper intelligent – it was _even smarter _than he was, and _no one _was smarter than he was!

"Got a Quirk for that?" Aizawa asked, cutting into his thoughts.

Hizashi was about to laugh - animals didn't _have _Quirks – but before he could, Nezu helpfully said, "Of course! My Quirk is 'High Specs': despite my clear non-human disposition, by intelligence is beyond that of a simple human!"

The odd feeling lessened. He could forgive that more, when someone was smarter than him due to a Quirk, although it always seemed a little lazy. He'd worked hard for his intelligence, as he'd worked hard with everything. Still, being jealous of the creature wasn't something he was content to do, especially considering his situation. An animal with a Quirk… "_[You're crazy smart,]" _Hizashi conceded. "Even so, what I said is true. If you like, though, I can add one more condition." He held up one finger. "Don't re-enter work as an information broker. Giran and I are the best, and we don't like others pushing in on our turf."

Nezu smiled that eager smile, but his brows creased a little. "That can be done, but the payment still isn't equal."

Hizashi shook his head. "I guess I just empathise. I was forced into doing the Support course at UA because I was smart, and look where it got me." He laughed and then glanced at Aizawa. "No offense, of course. I love ya, baby~" The man grunted disinterestedly. "Anyway, you should do what you wanna do! So long as it doesn't impede on my turf, you're Gucci!"

"Can I rescind our relationship?" asked Aizawa, his voice level. "You just used the word 'Gucci' as a synonym for good."

Hizashi made a heart with his hands and aimed it at him, until he noticed Nezu was watching the act carefully. "You too clearly have a deep connection with each other," the rodent pointed out, his tone very matter-of-fact. "You mentioned UA, the hero academy?"

Damn, Hizashi was really letting his guard down around him. This could be dangerous…

Something seemed to shift beneath those rounded eyes and then the rodent clapped its paws together in a moment of epiphany. "Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa! I thought I recognised you! Simon had me research all previous Sports Festivals to help him predict the obstacles for one of his betting rings. I'm annoyed I didn't make the connection sooner, although it is a rather peculiar situation! Two graduates of the best Hero School in the world going on to become villains! A true spectacle!"

Hizashi put his pizza slice down and folded his arms. "Well, it's not like we actually went onto the_ hero _track…"

Nezu leapt from his seat. "Very well. I shall remain here until I have 'found my feet'." He took a pen from the counter and scribbled something down on a napkin. "These are my measurements. I'll need a suit. Some shoes would help immensely too, what with the finding of said feet. I am going to use your computer."

"Okay…" Hizashi murmured, a little unsure. "The password is all in lower case: shout4_1s_hot." The guest bounded off without thanking him and the blond sighed as he turned to Aizawa. "What a night…"

"You really need to come up with a better password," grumbled Aizawa, who noticeably pushed his chair out a little.

Hizashi grinned and accepted the silent invitation to sit himself in Eraserhead's lap. He ran his fingers through the long black hair and pressed their foreheads together. "You're right, baby~ I should change it to H1Z4SHI_IS_HOT, all in upper case!"

Aizawa sighed and his hand slipped up the blond's shirt and pressed gently against the small of his back – it was a comforting gesture rather than a sexual one. "…You should've told me sooner," the man said softly, "about not killing Simon…"

"I should've," he agreed. "Thanks for _not_ killing him."

"He deserved to die… But you're usually eight steps ahead with this sort of thing. You're not afraid he's gonna tell them about us? He knew I was Shouta – he found my apartment."

Hizashi rolled his shoulders. "He's annoying, but he's smart. If he rats me or you out, he knows I'd be happy to sell out the rest of his gang members. His men and his business outside are worth more than revenge. If I'd had a single doubt in that, I would've made sure he wouldn't say a word." He pressed their noses together. "Death is too final for him."

"…How's this going to end, Zashi?" he asked, voice a bit rougher.

Hizashi smiled and kissed him tenderly. "With you and me, Sho, one way or another." Aizawa kissed him back, and he wished they could stay in that tender moment, but he knew it wouldn't last.

Shouta entwined their fingers and his eyes rested there, as if the sight offered him an idea. "…Zashi… Let's go on a date."


	30. Virtue Itself Turns Vice

Chapter Thirty

Virtue Itself Turns Vice

"For naught so vile that on the earth doth live

But to the earth some special good doth give.

Nor aught so good but, strained from that fair use

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,

And vice sometime by action dignified."  
(Friar Lawrence – Act 2, Scene 3)

Several days flew by, but nothing felt out of the ordinary to Aizawa. He went back to work as a bouncer and Nezu continued to live in the safehouse with them, but was only seen around meal times. He was using the computer to learn everything he could about the world he now had complete access to. Eraserhead had once talked to Hizashi about it, had told him he was giving him far too much free reign and that he could potentially betray them.

"He won't," the blond had said simply. When Aizawa had asked for proof, he'd calmly added, "He's too smart to betray us."

Shouta hadn't doubted him since. Hizashi still worked a lot, but they genuinely felt like a couple now. They ate together, they kissed, they slept in the same bed, and they had plenty of 'fun' in that bed.

According to him, Simon's gang hadn't disbanded and Simon was safely behind bars. Their identities were apparently still secret, but three days later, Mic came home looking _shaken._

Aizawa noticed immediately. "What happened?" He went to his side, and Hizashi instantly took his hand and squeezed it for reassurance. The blond smelled of cigarette smoke: it must've been a stressful day at work.

"Present Mic and Eraserhead need to lay low for a while," he said firmly. "We have a problem…"

-x-

_Earlier that Day_

The day had been rather typical. Hizashi clocked in early, as he always did, and set to work. He got a concerned glance from Power Loader – no doubt for the swathes of love marks on his neck – but by now that was a part of the ritual of work. They didn't talk much as the day progressed, unless it had something to do with the tech they were fixing or building, and eventually it was time for lunch.

Hizashi gathered his things and started for the Hero HQ cafeteria, but was stopped by a voice that was familiar, yet unfamiliar. "It is _you_!"

The blond froze in place as panic set in. Oh shit. Oh shit. Wait, no, that voice couldn't belong to who he thought it did, but… He swallowed deeply and turned around, trying his best to mask his fear, but then he froze again at the sight.

A man was approaching him… No, man wasn't generous enough for the superhuman, with his tall blond hair, impossibly muscular frame, tight costume, and enormous grin. Of course Hizashi recognised him, both by his appearance and his voice. His childhood days had been spent watching TV reruns of the hero, of placing him on a pedestal and of desiring to one day be as amazing as him.

That dream hadn't disappeared, but it had twisted: now his desire was to be just as famous.

Yes, for the man who approached him, who claimed he knew who Hizashi was, was none other than the number one hero in the world.

**All-Might** was_ approaching him._

Oh **_fuck._**

"All-Might!" Hizashi called eagerly, grinning back and righting his rounded glasses. If _All-Might_ knew he was Present Mic, everything would be over. He'd never see his Shouta again. "_[Is this a shout out, Listener?] _Could it be me you're talking to, or are there invisible listeners around who've caught your attention instead?"

"Good one, Mr. Yamada!" he called with a bellowing laugh and finally reached his side, towering over him like a tower. Oh damn he was an Adonis! If his heart and body didn't already (happily) belong to Shouta… Well, they did, so he wasn't even going to let his mind stray. All-Might clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him over. "I've heard amazing things about your tech, plus you graduated top of the Support class in your year! You're a very impressive man, Mr. Yamada!"

Wow. All-Might, the pillar of justice, number one hero in the entire world, was calling him _impressive._

"Oh, you do flatter me!" laughed Hizashi. "Makes me feel like you're after something!"

"Of course not!" All-Might quickly waved his hands, looking astonished, and then he paused. "Well, there was one thing… You see, your old principal was going to ask, but since I'm here I shall ask for him! You see, Mr. Yamada, the UA Sports Festival is approaching, and after listening to your speech at your reunion, he would like to offer you the chance to be this year's commentator!"

Hizashi froze.

He felt sick to his stomach as he thought of his match with Aizawa, and of the room that'd reeked of shattered dreams.

_Charismatic heroes are a dime-a-dozen, but charismatic techies? Interpersonal skills are highly valued at Hero HQ, and they feel there are enough pro-heroes out there, especially considering your weak constitution._

Wow, the principal was a moron. Hizashi hadn't even seen the arena in person since his first Sports Festival: ever since he'd been banned from attending.

_He _had been _banned _for his _weak constitution_. They allowed even students from the business classes to attend, kids with zero battle skills, but _no, Hizashi Yamada had been too_ **_weak to attend. So every year he'd been _****_forced to sit at home while-_**

"Mr. Yamada?"

The blond smiled cheerily. "Well, when you ask so nicely, _[Number One Listener], _how can I say no?"

-x-

Aizawa stared at him in shock. "_All-Might _is in _Japan_? I thought he was supposed to be in America!"

"Well he's in Japan now! Something must've happened…" Hizashi beelined for the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. "We're laying low, Sho. No villain stuff until he's outta here. We won't be the only ones either; I'll tell the guys at the bar about it."

Shouta exhaled and put his hand on top of Hizashi's head, sensing the internal panic. "And what about the Sports Festival?"

The blond paused and calmed down a little. "It's short notice, _[Dearest Listener], _but I don't have much choice. _All-Might _asked me!" The blond's eyes seemed to sparkle. "He's the reason I wanted to become a hero! He was so strong, and brave, and _popular_, and I wanted to be just like him!"

Aizawa sighed and linked their hands together, pulling him close. "Did you say yes for the media attention?"

"…No," he said honestly as he pulled one hand away to scratch the back of his head. "I mean, commentating is kinda my speci-al-ity, _[Dearest Listener]_, and I already know all the names and Quirks, and…_" _

Aizawa paused, and actually grinned a little. "You accepted because you're petty."

The blond pouted, but leaned closer. "You know me too well. Won't that be a victory? Going back to the place we were banned?" He leaned forward and pecked him quickly. "It'll be a lot of-"

"You work at Hero HQ, correct?" asked Nezu as he entered the room in his small suit and shoes. He didn't seem to care that they were having a 'personal' moment as he stood and waited for an answer.

Hizashi unhappily pulled away from him. "Why?"

"I need to be at Hero HQ tomorrow at 9am sharp."

Both Aizawa and Hizashi stared at the rodent in shock. "I repeat," the blond said, incredulously, "_why?"_

"I have an interview!" the rodent chirped, climbing a stool to the kettle so he could start brewing some tea. They stared at him in shock. "Thank you for the suit as well – I'll need to look my best!"

"You're getting a job at _Hero HQ_?" Hizashi asked, uncertain. "Like, I know I told you to stay out of criminal activity, but you've just hit the other end of the spectrum. I … don't know if I can trust you to keep our identities a secret if you're working for heroes."

Nezu beamed at him. "_You_ work for Hero HQ."

"That's different." The blond ran a hand through his short hair. "What job are you even applying for?"

"The principal's position at UA High School!"

"_What?" _It was Aizawa's turn to join the conversation. "That job's not even open."

"Not publicly. You just have to apply through the proper channels." The rodent made himself some tea and hopped off the stool without spilling a drop. "9am sharp."

Hizashi tilted his head and rubbed his neck, not at all pleased. Despite his intelligence, the rodent wasn't going to get a job like that with his minimal credentials and his stature. Still, perhaps it would be good for him to experience some rejection, and he was too smart to slip and sell them out, even if it _would_ grant him the job. "I get there earlier than that, so you can come in and sit around until the interview."

"Deal!" Nezu hurried away, back to the computer room to continue broadening his horizons.

"Is this really a smart course of action?" asked Shouta as he watched the rodent leave.

Hizashi melodramatically sighed and leaned against the bench. "I don't even know anymore. I think this is the stupidest thing I've ever done but… Dammit, Sho, he's too cute to say no to." He whined and went to fall into Shouta's arms, only to have the other villain step away at the last moment, so he crashed onto the floor instead. "…Ow…"

"I was serious, you know," Aizawa said as he went to make himself a coffee. "I _want _to go on a date."

Hizashi peeled himself from the floor and sat cross legged as he righted his glasses. "I know, baby, I wanna go on a date too, but can we really go out together when All-Might's around? What if he runs into us?"

Aizawa rubbed his temples. "Zashi… It's a _date_. I'm not talking about robbing a bank: I'm talking about going to a movie, or getting some dinner, or…" He looked away. "I don't know… I've never been on a date before…"

The blond blinked and stared at him. He pulled himself to his feet and stood by Shouta's side, gently moving some hair from his face. "Okay baby, I'm gonna take you on the best first date you've ever been on."

-x-

Three days later, and Hizashi did something he hadn't done in a long time: he took an entire day off. That meant no support ware, no DJing and no radio show (not that it would've been on that day anyway). They sat together on the train, and even though they were wearing surgical masks, the blond was still fussing over sunscreen.

Aizawa just let him apply it for him and didn't complain. He didn't want to admit how excited he was to be going on a date with his lover, but it was difficult to not get swept up in everything. Hizashi had taken time off for _him _and that meant a lot.

It wasn't weird to see people wearing surgical masks in Japan. In fact, it was a very common sight, and the duo didn't stand out at all with them on. The sentiment wasn't lost on Shouta, of course: Hizashi _was _famous. Usually he would love to be recognised by his adoring fans, but today was all about them and no one else, and the raven-haired man appreciated it.

"How'd his interview go?" he asked the blond as he finished smearing him with sunscreen.

"Hm?" Hizashi scooted close to him on the packed train. "Oh, no clue. He just gushed about how high tech the facility was. Guess I'm a bit desensitised to it though." He laughed and a smile tugged at Aizawa's lips.

"So, where're we going?"

Hizashi just winked and let the question go. Soon, however, they arrived.

"A fair?" he asked as he glanced around. "Was worried you were going to take me to Disneyland or Universal Studios."

The blond rolled his eyes and took his arm. "Too many tourists. This is way smaller, but it'll be just as fun!" He led him forward through the train station and soon enough they were at the heart of everything. The crowds were copious, but he wasn't really worried about them getting separated. They had their arms still linked, and besides, he had that tracking device in his back in case the worst happened.

Perhaps that was why he didn't really mind it: while it _was _an invasion of privacy, it could be useful, especially for people in their line of work. Besides, Hizashi could've put it anywhere in his body, yet he'd chosen to place it where he could notice it easily and remove it with little pain. It was purposefully amateur.

"So, where should we go first, baby_?" _Hizashi asked, but Aizawa shrugged. "You hungry?"

"We ate lunch before we left, like logical adults."

"I know, but this is a _fair! _We can go a little crazy, _[Dearest Listener!]" _However, his green eyes were already glancing around at everything else on offer. "Well, if you're not hungry yet, we could play some carnival games! Or check out the rides! Or go in the haunted house!"

Aizawa couldn't help but grin beneath his surgical mask. "You? In the haunted house? I think I'd lose my eardrums."

Hizashi scoffed. "Fine, let's make a bet! Whoever loses their cool first has gotta hand-feed the winner!"

Well, this was going to be easy. "Deal." They headed for the haunted house, finding it wasn't too crowded yet. They were inside within minutes, and Aizawa felt comfortable in the darkness that enveloped them. Of course, they were both _villains_, and the haunted house was very… _cheesy._

Obviously fake hands hung from chains above them, and the torturous screams that filled the air were tainted by the sound of poor audio quality and repeated loops. However, this must've been to lull park goers into an unsuspecting state, for as they continued, all the lights suddenly went out. The strange shift set Aizawa on edge, and when a man dressed in a pretty convincing zombie costume leapt out at them, it took every fibre in his well-trained body to not instinctively grab the worker in a headlock and pin him to the ground.

He squeezed Hizashi's hand automatically, but the blond _laughed. _"You'll have to do better than that, _[listeners!]"_

Cold air blew against their backs, and when they looked around, another worker dressed as a werewolf lunged for them. Aizawa, still caught up by the first man, released Hizashi's hand so he could step in front of the blond, automatically moving to protect him.

Of course the actor didn't reach them. Once his job was done, he just stepped back through the door he'd entered through to await the next group.

Aizawa relaxed, until something brushed against his hand, although he relaxed again once he realised it was Hizashi. The blond pulled him onwards, his expression hidden behind the surgical mask. After a few more jump scares – ones that were less effective than the two actors – they were out.

"Told you," Hizashi said with a wink, and the man didn't need to see his mouth to know he was grinning. "With my Quirk, I had to become immune to jump scares. Horror movies are the best!" He took his arm and held him close. "Although I appreciate the sentiment of protecting me from the big bad wolf, but _[don't you know I'm already the wolf in sheep's clothing?] _I can't be scared!"

Aizawa stared at him blankly. "There's a bug in your hair."

Instantly, Hizashi released him and flipped out. "_WHAT?_ WHERE?" He frantically checked his hair over by running his hands through it, hopping from foot to foot in an odd panicked dance.

"'Can't be scared'?" he mimicked. "Well, I guess you've gotta hand feed me, Zashi."

The blond huffed and poked him in the side. "That's cheating…"

He took his hand again and really looked into Hizashi's eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. His hair was nearing his shoulders by now, and he was wearing his usual rounded, dorky glasses. He briefly wondered a simple, yet cogent thought:

What would he sacrifice to keep this wonder in his life?

Aizawa leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "How about we both lose the bet?"


	31. Little Stars

Chapter Thirty-One

Little Stars

_"Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night,_

_Give me my Romeo. And when I shall die,_

_Take him and cut him out in little stars,_

_And he will make the face of heaven so fine_

_That all the world will be in love with night."_

_(Juliet – Act 3, Scene 2)_

There were a tonne of food stalls, but they decided for some Takoyaki to start. Hizashi ran over to the seller, practically hopping from foot to foot at the amazing scent that permeated the surgical mask. "One please!" he called as he offered the server some cash, and then he was hurrying back over to the small grassy area Shouta had found beneath a small tree. Hizashi seated himself beside him and showed him the tray. "Don't they smell amazing?"

Shouta grunted and pulled his mask down, so Hizashi did the same. The tree hid them from the majority of the crowds, so he wasn't expecting any sensational scoops about their relationship – not that he would've minded. All publicity was good publicity to him, but Shouta would see things differently, so the blond was going to respect that. The Erasure villain picked one up by the toothpick and held it out for him.

Hizashi pouted. "Is it still really hand-feeding if you're doing it on the end of a toothpick?"

"It's sticky," reasoned Shouta, and when the blond still didn't open his mouth, he repeatedly pressed the sticky ball of octopus to his lips. "Open."

"You'll ruin my moust-" Before he could finish the complaint, the food was shoved into his mouth. He bit down on the toothpick, however, so Aizawa couldn't pull away. This was apparently a big mistake as the blond instantly opened his mouth again, huffing out the phrase, "Hot! Hot! Hot!"

Steam wafted from his tongue and Aizawa removed the toothpick, although the Takoyaki remained in his mouth, burning him. "Then swallow."

The blond did, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he stuck his tongue out unhappily. "…Ow…"

"Thought you had a good pain tolerance." Shouta was grinning at him.

Hizashi huffed and picked up another ball and held it out to his lover. "Open up and we'll test _your_ pain tolerance then. Say 'Ah', darling~"

At first he thought Sho would refuse, but he surprisingly relented and opened his mouth. Rather than shoving the burning Takoyaki into his mouth, however, he lunged forward and connected their lips in a kiss, instantly slipping his tongue against Shouta's. The man tensed against him, but only briefly, and he was quickly kissing him back, soothing the burns across his tongue.

When Hizashi pulled away, however, another burning Takoyaki was shoved into his mouth, catching him by surprise. "Your food's getting cold," mumbled Aizawa with a menacing grin.

The blond quickly swallowed and punched him on the arm, although he was laughing. "You're such a dickbag!"

Aizawa grunted and his gaze softened. "You're more like you were back then…" Hizashi blinked in surprise. The man took another Takoyaki balls, this time with his fingers rather than the toothpick, and he opened it so the steam could waft out. "It's nice."

Hizashi sniggered and glanced away. "What, when I'm immature? Annoying?"

"When you're_ you_…"

The blond looked back at him, in awe, and Aizawa held out the two halves of the Takoyaki. He opened his mouth and ate it – this time it didn't burn his tongue. The food was delicious. Hizashi picked one up and blew on it, before offering it to Aizawa with a warm smile. "Open wide, love."

-x-

Next up were the game stalls. Hizashi beelined for one where you had to put six balls in a fake rotating clown's mouth and try to land it in a numbered row. The goal was to earn one of the totals on the board to win a big prize. Hizashi rubbed his hands together. "The top one is six points! If I put the ball in when the head is facing the further-most left, it'll land in number one! I've just gotta put it in like that six times!"

He happily hopped from foot to foot, and Aizawa paid for the game before he could even reach for his wallet. The blond grinned at him from beneath the mask, and put the first ball in… only for it to land in the third slot instead of the first. They stared silently at the failure.

"But… my calculation was perfect," the blond whined.

"The games are all rigged," Aizawa said with a shrug. Hizashi put the remaining five balls in and his total score won him a cheap keyring with a star. He stared at it sorrowfully. The Erasure villain rolled his eyes and took his hand in his as he pulled him along. "Come on, I'll win you something."

"Another keyring?" he asked unhappily.

"Let's find out…"

They reached a wall covered in balloons, and the man who ran the stall waved at them as they approached. "Welcome! Step right up! If you can hit ten balloons with ten darts, you will win one of our big prizes!" He gestured to a wall of prizes, and at the very top… "If you manage to get _eleven _balloons with ten darts, then you'll receive our extra special prize!" At the very top was a giant tabby cat.

He glanced at Hizashi and noticed the sparkle in his eye as he stared at it. Aizawa nodded and offered the man money for the game, and he was offered the ten darts. They were rather blunt, but if he used enough force they would do the job. The purveyor stepped to the side and Aizawa threw the darts. It was easy really – he had an expert aim and enough strength to burrow each needle through a target. With one dart to go, he'd destroyed a total of nine balloons. The man running the stall was staring in amazement, although his eyes were also sharp - probably checking every movement he made to ensure he wasn't using a Quirk.

Even Hizashi was jittering beside him, amazed by Aizawa's skills, even though he knew how perfectly this game fit his skillset.

"One more balloon!" said the stall's owner. "Or you could try for-"

Before he finished, Shouta threw the last dart – it'd been the sharpest on the ten, so he'd saved it for this final throw. Rather than hurling it straight on, as he had with the previous nine, he threw this one at an angle, aiming for a far part of the balloon wall to his right. There was far more force behind it too, which was necessary as the needle tore through the first balloon. The pop was paired with a second, however, as the dart landed in the second balloon just beyond the first.

The proprietor's face was pale as he stared at the busted balloons. "Woah…"

Hizashi suddenly grabbed Shouta by the arm and pulled him close. His emerald eyes were sparking with wonder. "Have I ever told you how amazing you are~?"

Aizawa grunted, but he felt warm whenever those eyes were on him, and in that moment he was reminded of something the blond had once said.

_Here's the thing, Sho. I love dating. I need someone who wants to spend their time with me, who thinks I'm amazing, who knows how lucky they are to have me… I want to be at the centre of everyone's universe, but I need someone to be at the centre of mine._

The man swallowed and entwined their fingers and electricity coursed between them… Yes, this _was _love.

"_You're _amazing, Zashi," he said gently, moving a small slew of blond fringe from behind his glasses. "I hope I'm worthy."

The slightly taller man leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "Always have been, and always will be…"

They stood like that for a moment, only interrupted by an uncomfortable coughing. The duo pulled away and turned to the man, who was offering them the giant feline plushie. It was even larger than it'd looked above. "Congratulations! You won the special prize!"

Aizawa took it and instantly offered it to the blond. Hizashi took it and swallowed, hugging it close to his chest. "…Thank you, Sho," he said gently, his typically loud and abrasive voice now soft and genuine.

He smiled beneath his mask and gestured to the Ferris wheel. "Come on, let's go for a ride."

-x-

They sat alone on the two-seater passenger-carriage for the Ferris wheel, gradually nearing the top. The sight beyond was dazzling, with all the city aglow with a billion lights. Hizashi so rarely let himself just pause and marvel the world around him, but this was one of those rare moments. He cuddled into Shouta's side, the giant cat held close between them, his heart racing with joy.

As dull as his appearance was, with his dark clothes and his dark hair, Aizawa always managed to bathe his life with colour. Just being by his side filled him with unrelenting, violent delight.

"Zashi," the man said, and his eyes turned to the two onyx pupils. When they were on him, he didn't care about anyone else. Aizawa pulled both their masks down and gently cupped Hizashi's cheek, his thumb running over part of his small blond moustache. "I'm not… good with words."

The blond grinned. "Don't worry, I can be good enough for the both of us."

"What I mean is… You're what I want, Zashi." He swallowed and his fingers curled into his blond hair. "I want to be the centre of your universe, cause… I love you."

Hizashi stared at the villain. His face felt warm, and even Shouta's cheeks were dusted with red. The stars hung just beyond. Most were lost to the bright city lights, yet some remained, small beacons of unreachable light dotting the infinite cosmos, and in the centre of the image was his Shouta: his everything.

The blond swallowed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the small star keychain so he could offer it to his lover. Aizawa took it curiously, and Hizashi grinned a toothy grin. "Wanna get married?"

Sho's expression was priceless. "…Are you proposing to me with a keyring you won as a consolation prize?"

"Like, we can get actual rings," the blond clarified, "but I don't have any on me at the moment. This is kind of a spur of the moment thing, if you hadn't noticed… What, too soon?" Aizawa knocked their foreheads together and the blond whined, "Ow…"

"You're a moron," Shouta sighed out, but there was a smile on his lips, and he held the keychain close. "Who proposes on a first date?"

Hizashi pouted. "What, you turning me down?"

Aizawa rolled his eyes but leaned over and connected their lips in an unexpected kiss. The blond melted against him, and he had the overwhelming urge to cry from the sheer joy of it. He and Shouta together in the public eye, while Present Mic and Eraserhead were together in the shadows. He'd never wanted anything more… Well, there was one thing he'd wanted more for them, but that was impossible.

Their lips parted and Aizawa pressed their foreheads together again. "Okay…"

"It doesn't even have to be a big thing! It can be as small as you want, or-"

Shouta shook his head and held him close. "It's fine… Although we will need actual rings, and not just a cheap keyring."

Hizashi poked him in the stomach. "You better keep that keyring, cause it's now a symbol of our love~!"

"Cheap, tacky and hard to look at?"

"I love it when you're all romantic like this." Hizashi pecked him again, but the Ferris wheel was nearing its end. "Hey, let's go home…"

"You didn't want more tooth rotting food?"

The blond snickered as they pulled the metal bar away and exited the ride, hand in hand. "You're sweet enough~"

The man rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his lips. They pulled their surgical masks back up, and headed for the way out. "Okay, fiancé."

-x-

Hizashi and Aizawa walked back to their safehouse- no, their _home, _with their hands entwined. The blond still held the giant plushie close, and the raven-haired man felt light whenever he glanced at his bedazzled face…

The keyring was in his pocket – he could feel it pressing against his outer thigh. It was slight but reassuring.

This could be it.

This could be enough – no, _more _than enough.

The public thought Present Mic and Eraserhead were dead anyway, so why not just… leave it. UA had betrayed them, yes, and that betrayal had twisted them. Even now, that fate had complete control over Aizawa, but that could change…

He'd been scared of letting go of his anger, but with the loss of anger came firm, reassuring logic.

He couldn't be a hero, but he didn't have to be a villain: he could be Shouta Aizawa again.

… Or, maybe he could be Shouta Yamada…

"You're smiling," Hizashi pointed out as he held his hand tighter. "You thinking 'bout me?"

"I want your last name," he said without thinking, and the blond's face turned bright red.

"Really? But 'Yamada' is so common!"

"… I haven't talked to my mother in years," Shouta said softly, "and I've never had a father. You're all the family I have, Hizashi. I would rather be a Yamada with you, than an Aizawa without."

"…You're sappy," he said, but brought his hand up and kissed his fingers. "Okay, you can take my last name, but you should probably get my parents' blessing."

He snorted. "You think the bartender and the information broker would want me as a son-in-law?"

"…I meant my _actual _parents." Shouta paused, and the blond stared at him like he was crazy. "… You do know I have _actual parents, _right? My _actual _mum and dad who gave birth to me?"

"Assumed they were dead."

It was Hizashi's turn to snort. "Wow, rude! They moved to Australia while I was in my last year of UA, but I'll introduce you before the wedding, okay?"

He grunted, embarrassed, and they walked on in silence for a time. They still had a way to go, and the conversation shifted to… "How does an animal have a Quirk?"

Hizashi exhaled and scuffed his shoes against the pavement as they walked onwards. "Judging by that scar he has, I'm guessing he's undergone plenty experiments, but it's hard to tell if that's what gave him the Quirk or if the Quirk is _why _they experimented on him… What I'm really unsure of is how he fell into Simon's possession. His usual areas don't involve anything to do with animals … I don't wanna ask Nezu about it though."

Their home was approaching at the end of the street, and he wondered if the rodent would be waiting for them or would be stuck behind the computer as per usual. "It doesn't really matter," Shouta agreed, "so long as he doesn't betray us."

They reached the front door and pinned in the code so they could enter and take off their shoes. As they were removing them, however, the sound of paws scampered across the wooden floor and Nezu appeared with the largest smile they'd ever seen on his furry little face. "I have been hired!"

They stared at him in total shock. "… You _what?" _gasped Hizashi.

"I am now the future principal of the UA Academy for aspiring heroes, and I have already drawn up the paperwork for my first new program!"

"Does it involve how to make tea?" Shouta asked, and Hizashi shot him a look. "…What's the program?"

"It's a fast-track course, available to all past graduates of UA." They paused in surprise. "Those who've already graduated from one of the many tracks offered by UA – Hero, Support, General and Business – will have the invitation to return to UA for special post-graduate courses that focus on the completion of a different track!"

Aizawa stared in shock. "You mean…"

Hizashi swallowed. "Like, if someone graduated from Support, they could…"

The rodent nodded eagerly, his bright smile never faltering. "They could complete a course that would give them the credentials of another track of their choosing!"

His excitement was well-founded, but all Shouta and Hizashi could do was stare with their mouths open.

They could return to UA.

They could become heroes.

_Together_.


	32. A Plague

Chapter Thirty-Two

A Plague

"A plague o' both your houses!"

(Mercutio – Act 3, Scene 1)

About a month had flown by since their secret engagement, and Nezu had finally been sworn in as Principal (at the Sports Festival of all places), after the old one had announced his long-awaited retirement.

Hizashi, the lone commentator, had been at the Sports Festival to see it, while Shouta had settled for watching it on TV – baby steps. He wasn't ready to confront the place in person. It'd gone amazingly well, of course: Hizashi had already known all the students and their Quirks long before the show.

Their engagement was still secret, of course, and the two had been too busy to even find the time to get rings. Nezu was getting his own home, now he had a paycheque, and the wheels of his 'Secondary Track' program were already turning. The idea had been met with strong approval and they believed it would be ready for post-graduates within only a few months.

Hizashi was curled up against Shouta's side as he placed gentle kisses on his bare chest. They were both naked after plenty rounds of sex, still sweaty too, but they were content and satisfied.

"We should talk about it," the blond said at last. "It's obvious why Nezu became the new UA principal."

"He wants to repay you," Shouta confirmed. "He knew you wanted to be a hero, so he's opening a pathway for you."

Hizashi lifted his hand and curled their fingers together. "…I wanna do it, Sho. I … still wanna be a hero."

Aizawa put an arm around him, but there was something discomforting about the look on his face. "… You'd make a great hero, Zashi. You _deserve_ to be a hero."

"I'd have to give up a lot." The blond swallowed, and repeated what he'd been saying for the longest time: "But there's no point in being a hero if I can't be a hero with you…" Shouta shook his head and murmured his name, but the blond cut in before he could argue. "You _would _make a good hero too, Sho. Remember when my platform exploded and I nearly fell off the building? You_, _a _villain_, rushed in to save me, even risking the chance that I'd recognise you. You have it too: the ability to protect people without even thinking."

"I tried to kill Nemuri. There's no forgiving that."

"Then redeem yourself to her," Hizashi said while nuzzling his face sleepily against his neck. "If you become a hero and change your ways, she will forgive you. Besides, I know her – she hasn't taken it personally. Although, you _do_ still need to have that talk with her…"

His fingers curled in Hizashi's short blond hair, tenderly combing through it. "…I'm being blackmailed into it, aren't I?"

"Yup!" Hizashi cheered with a toothy grin. "I'll only do the course if you're doing it with me, so let's become heroes together, like we always wanted to."

Aizawa swallowed. "You … don't think it's too late?"

Hizashi gently cupped his hand and placed it against his cheek. "Shouta … If it's not too late for me, then it's not too late for you. I want to be a hero with you – it's been my dream since the day I first met you."

Eraserhead smiled. This would be it then. "When're you going to break the news to your villain parents? Think they'll be upset?"

"Giran and Kurogiri would support me, no matter what – although Giran will have to find someone else to memorise all the student names for his betting circle. I won't be involved in their dealings anymore, but I'll never betray them, and they'll trust me. We won't even need to change our titles! We'll come up with a story about our recent debuts! We had all the public debating about it anyway, so it'll be easy if we come up with a solid backstory."

"…Hey, Hizashi… Why do you think All-Might is in Japan?"

The blond blinked in surprise, and paused to think on it, although he really didn't want to speculate… "It's an odd coincidence," he said slowly, "for the American hero to arrive so soon after Simon, the American-Japanese Underground link, was taken into custody. Maybe he wanted to come to talk with him now he's in custody, or…"

"Or All-Might is following someone, and he believes they've come here."

"That's also a possibility."

"Think he's after Present Mic and Eraserhead?"

The blond villain shook his head and placed a soft kiss against Shouta's chest. "He's not after us, love. I hate to say it, but to someone like All-Might we're just small fry at our level. One day we'll be stronger than him though."

"…If we succeed in this course," Shouta said slowly, "then we'd be his colleagues."

Hizashi stared at him, completely speechless for a good few moments, but then he smiled. Shouta could always make him smile. "I love you, Sho."

He grunted in agreement and held him close. "We'll become heroes together, Zashi…" They cuddled close and kissed, not knowing what suffering the next day would bring.

-x-

His plan for the day was simple: work in the morning, then they'd visit Kurogiri's bar to announce their engagement and the new course at UA. Afterwards they'd visit Nemuri too, and sort out the issues between them, and then Sho would get to see Heater – the cat he'd rescued all those years ago.

Hizashi was on the train with Nezu, both headed for Hero HQ since UA was so close by. The blond would get off at his stop and the rodent would continue for two more stations, but it just seemed logical for them to travel together until then. They had been chatting about something boring – different types of teas – when the blond decided to broach the subject they'd been avoiding.

"[Someone gave you to Simon, didn't they?]" Hizashi asked in English, figuring it would be safer since they were on the busy train.

"[What gave you that impression, Mr. Yamada?]" the rodent questioned back with a smile.

The train rattled around them, the sound soothing, despite the crowds. The younger commuters were all on their phones, playing games or reading webtoons, while the older travellers were staring silently out the windows as they waited for their destinations. Hizashi loved the train.

"[I know why you became the principal,]" he continued. "[You wanted to repay our 'debt', and you thought the only thing that was equal to your freedom was for our dream to come true. You became the principal of UA so you could offer us the chance… But that wasn't the only reason.]" He watched as Nezu's smile widened, even before he said it. "[You needed to put yourself in the public spotlight, because whoever 'made' you won't touch you if there'll be too much publicity.]"

Nezu laughed, a small but chipper sound, and he kicked his small feet out in time with the bounce of the train. "[You're smart. I went over all your school records, and I can understand why the previous principal chose to do what he did. I've been reading books on child psychology and behaviour, especially that pertaining to teenagers. It is understandable why Mr. Aizawa became over emotional, especially with the pressure you both must've been under. If he'd been offered more encouragement, a few words to let you both know that what you'd already shown was more than enough, perhaps the results would've been less disastrous. Your teamwork, ingenuity and strategy during the first two events should have been rewarded, not forgotten. It is certainly belated, but as the new UA principal, I _will _reward your efforts. A school should widen a student's future: not narrow it.]"

Hizashi stared into Nezu's round eyes, and a warm smile tugged at his lips. "[You'll make a good principal, Nezu. The students and stuff are insanely lucky to have you, yo.]"

-x-

It would be the last time the two would be dressed together in their villain attire, although Hizashi's mask was still out of commission. They climbed the steps of the bar, the blond's face covered by orange, triangular specs and a surgical mask, while Aizawa was able to wear his usual villain mask. The capture weapon looked good on him too, although Hizashi was trying to think of ways to brighten up his outfit for when they became heroes together.

He was thinking maybe goggles for Aizawa – yellow ones that would suit Hizashi's hair. Then they'd have a big wedding, if Aizawa wanted one.

Nothing stirred the media more than a wedding between two heroes. They'd probably announce it globally!

But he'd be more than happy with a small ceremony too… Yeah, actually, he'd prefer something simple and private…

Hizashi opened the door for his lover, and the place was devoid of people, save the bartender and the older information broker. Right, this would be their first stop, and then the duo would go see Nemuri.

"So, All-Might hasn't found you two out yet?" Giran asked with his typical toothy grin. "Must be quite the workplace with him breathing down ya neck!"

Hizashi sniggered and pulled his fiancé into a seat between him and Giran, while Kurogiri immediately set to work making them each a drink. "He doesn't go into the support department much," the blond said easily, pulling down his surgical mask, "and when I see him around he usually just makes small talk. You two staying low?"

Kurogiri nodded. "I've closed up this week, and won't reopen until he's back in America."

"Couldn't miss my betting circle," Giran admitted, "especially since the commentator was such a pro! You did great, kiddo. Must've been a lot of bad memories though."

Hizashi scratched the back of his neck. "Had some scary times there, yo, but some were totally amazing too! I thought I'd only see the bad, but more often than not I was reminded of how much butt we kicked during the first two trials! Together we were unstoppable!" He threw his fists into the air like a boxer, although he almost punched Shouta by accident.

The man easily dodged back, shooting him an unimpressed look through the red lenses. "Careful," he warned, and Hizashi grinned sheepishly.

"Speaking of us being unstoppable together… We're engaged!"

Kurogiri and Giran were clearly caught off-guard by the sudden announcement, but their response was what he'd expected. "About damn time!" the information broker groaned as he smacked his hand against the bar. "Seriously, what took you so damn long?"

"They've only been on one date," Kurogiri complained. "Are you sure you're not rushing things?"

"Rushing things!" Giran laughed humourlessly. "These boys should've been kissing it up long ago. Stop being the disapproving mother – I think our boy could've done a lot worse for himself."

Kurogiri huffed and glanced away, but his slight remark of, "Nobody is good enough for our boy," was too loud to miss. Hizashi snickered and took hold of Aizawa's hand, and the bartender gave them each a gin and tonic. "Got a ring to show for it?"

Aizawa went to reach for the keychain, but Hizashi stopped him before he earned an earful from the two veterans. "It's still in the shop getting adjusted!" he lied. Although their expressions were unconvinced, they let it slide. "There's something more serious I need to tell you though, about Nezu and UA… You see, we're gonna become-"

The door to the bar opened without warning.

The group glanced back together, and Hizashi had the sense to lift his surgical mask to hide his identity as the intruder stepped inside.

His footsteps were unusually heavy, and to call him a tall man would've been an understatement. For one horrific moment, Hizashi thought he was All-Might, but the black suit disproved the assumption almost immediately. His face was difficult to distinguish, however, for whenever the blond tried to focus on his appearance, his eyes automatically slipped away.

As soon as he entered the small bar, several facts became instantly known:

1- This man was bad news.

2- This man was dangerous.

3- This man was a **Villain.**

Kurogiri was composed enough to speak. "Sorry Sir; we're closed."

Instead of leaving, the intruder closed the door and calmly approached to the bar, stopping at the stool beside Hizashi. The blond could sense the muscles in Shouta's body tensing, as if he were readying himself to leap into an attack at a moment's notice. Even so, the man didn't look at them. "One drink, and then I'll go," said the stranger.

His voice sent an unpleasant shudder through his spine, but the blond tapped into his reservoir of courage and maintained an outward appearance of calm. "I'd recommend the tap beer," Hizashi managed, almost surprising himself with the evenness of his voice. Wow, he was good at this. "It's great stuff, yo."

The suited man was silent for several moments, but then a smile crossed his indistinguishable face. "One." Kurogiri set to work on pouring him the drink, but the Villain's attention finally turned to the other bargoers. "I'm looking for an information broker."

"You're in the right place," Giran said smoothly. Hizashi could sense his concern, but he was just as skilled at hiding his emotion as the blond. "What do ya need?"

The man _grinned. _"Exactly what I just said: an information broker. A _very _specific one…" His eyes turned to Hizashi, and instinctual fear froze his limbs. "We should talk, Present Mic."

He forced his mouth to move. "'Bout what, _[listener]?_"

The Villain lifted a large hand and placed it on Hizashi's shoulder. "About how much you _owe_ me."

An icy sensation wracked Present Mic's body, but when he went to gasp, he _couldn't._

Hizashi _couldn't __**breathe**__._

At first he thought Aizawa was using Erasure on him, but one quick glance back told him he was wrong. Did this man have an Erasure Quirk too, or-

Hizashi cupped his mouth as his body instinctively curled away from the Villain's touch. The hand fell away from his shoulder, yet his lungs refused to work. What? What Quirk was this?

_Don't panic, Hizashi. You can hold your breath for ages._

The Villain made a disgusted sound. "Such a mediocre Quirk. It's pathetic, really, especially with such a toll. But I suppose that means you won't miss it."

Hizashi's stool skidded out from under him, but Aizawa's warm arms caught him before he crumpled to the ground. "Mic!" he called, but his voice seemed far away.

_Don't panic._

His gaze trailed up the abyssal suit of the imposing Villain, and a single realisation made his entire world shatter.

His Voice Quirk wasn't temporarily 'erased'.

His Quirk was **gone.**


	33. These Sad Things

Chapter Thirty-Three

These Sad Things

"The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head.

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things.

Some shall be pardoned, and some punished."

(Prince Escales – Act 5, Scene 3)

The strong, courageous, amazing Hizashi Yamada crumpled in his arms. Aizawa did his best to support him, but was confused by the suddenness of everything. Who was this man? What had he done to Hizashi?

"Quite a group here," remarked the suited Villain as he tilted his head this way and that, scanning them over. "A mediocre Voice Quirk, a powerful Warp Quirk, a squandered Erasure Quirk and a minor Amnesia Quirk." He snorted as he waved a large hand at the troop. "Even so, you all could've been useful to me… If I didn't have to kill this one for freeing my mouse."

His finger pointed at Hizashi, and Aizawa instinctively dragged him away from the Villain, shielding him with his own body. The blond managed to stand, but he _wasn't breathing_. Shit, did this guy have an Erasure Quirk too? Hizashi swayed where he stood and signed something Aizawa didn't recognise. Even so, Giran leapt to his feet. "Kurogiri," the information broker all but growled, "don't use your Quirk! He's taken Mic's! You send him away, he'll _die."_

The mist man had already been raising his hands, but the warning from his comrade made him stop. However, it didn't stop Aizawa from using Erasure on the Villain as he threw his fist at him. Whatever Quirk this Villain had, Shouta could-

The man grabbed him like he weighed nothing and flung him to the side. His body crashed through several tables and chairs and slammed into the wall. Pain swam through his head, but at the centre of the sea was a single thought: Hizashi Yamada.

Eraserhead pulled his aching body up, and focused his Erasure back on the Villain, yet it did _nothing. _The man laughed. "Eraserhead," he called, "you let this weak little Voice Quirk user hold you back. You have so much … _potential. _How about we tap into it?_"_

"Give it back," Shouta growled, his lenses flaring bright red. "Give him back his Quirk!" Eraserhead threw himself at the Villain again, but before his fist could land, black mist wrapped around him. Cold air hit his face as he was transported outside – away from the bar. Kurogiri must've teleported him away so he couldn't interfere. Or, maybe it was to protect him. He looked around wildly, trying to find some way back. He _had _to go back! He'd promised to protect Hizashi!

Before he could move, the ground disappeared beneath him.

He collapsed back on the floor of the bar, black mist billowing around him again, and the sight he saw was horrific. The suited Villain had long red tendrils sprouting from his fingers, joining to Kurogiri's body, while the bartender was curled over the bench, his misty body trembling in agony… Wait… Was _he_ using Kurogiri's Quirk?

"Welcome back," chuckled the Villain.

Aizawa's eyes instantly turned to Hizashi and fear thundered through him. The blond must've attacked him, for the Villain's other hand was now wrapped around Mic's supple neck, and his feet were dangling off the ground. Hizashi wasn't going down without a fight though; he was kicking at the suited man and digging his nails into him. His left hand still had the taser glove on, but if he shocked the Villain, he'd get hurt too. Even so, one look at the blond's face told him he was nearing his limit, and-

Giran, without a useful Quirk for the situation and without the strength to fight, did the next best thing. "What do you want for his life?" The man must've hated the next words that came from his mouth, for they were the worst agreement an information broker could ever make. "I'll do _anything."_

A grin crossed the Villain's face. "It's not about what only _you_ can give me: I want something from all three of you."

"We'll pay it." Aizawa agreed, his eyes now glued to Hizashi's face. It reminded him too much of the Sports Festival.

Hizashi Yamada was _dying_, and this was the best he could do against this Villain.

"I want _you_." The man waved at all three of them with his other hand. "He took some important pawns from me, so I need them replaced – with interest. Submit to me without question or struggle, and I'll return his Quirk and let him go. Refuse, and you can watch him die~"

Hizashi was clinging to the man's wrist with one hand, yet with the other he was desperately signing something, and Shouta didn't need to understand it to know what he was saying. The blond was telling them to run: he'd rather die than let the three sacrifice themselves for him.

"We'll do it!" Shouta agreed. The blond's signing hesitated but then grew more frantic, but they didn't have time to think this over: if they didn't concede then Hizashi would die and Shouta couldn't let that happen. "Give him his Quirk, and we'll submit!"

The Villain panned between the three willing recruits, and his glance was met with a solemn nod from both Giran and the pained Kurogiri. "Good, I have no use for such a pathetic Quirk anyway." He dropped Hizashi to the floor. "There, the trade is made. You three belong to me~" Kurogiri's mist reappeared, wrapping around the feet of everyone except the blond. Hizashi was trying to gasp for air, yet Eraserhead couldn't hear him inhale.

He painfully reached out.

Nevertheless, before his fingers could touch his love, the black mist consumed Shouta's entire body, and everything he'd ever loved was gone in an instant.

"Now," said the voice of the Villain, far too close for comfort, "we're going to all play nicely. We have a lot of lost ground to make up, and I expect you three to do all I ask. If you don't, I can always go back and finish the job."

What would Shouta Aizawa sacrifice for Hizashi Yamada?

_Everything._

-o-

Hizashi couldn't breathe. He could feel his returned Quirk at the pit of his throat, yet still his lungs refused to work. The world was going dark around him, and yet he knew he wasn't being enveloped by Kurogiri's Quirk. No, Present Mic was all alone on the floor of the bar.

Present Mic was_ dying_ alone.

If he passed out, everything would be over…

No. He had to save them, and to do that he had to live!

With the last of his energy, he turned the voltage down on his taser glove and slammed it against his chest. Electricity tore through him.

He gasped in sweet, sweet oxygen, and finally blacked out…

-x-

When Hizashi woke again, he was still on the cold floor. His breathing was ragged, the lights were dull above him, and the place that had once served as a second home was as silent as the grave.

"Shou-ta?" he called, his throat feeling hoarse. He needed water, but that wasn't his priority right now as he forced himself to his feet. No one answered him. "Gi-ran…? Ku-ro…?"

He was answered only by the quiet drone of the lights. Hizashi was about to search around, but he was disturbed by a vibration in his back pocket, and he realised his phone must've woken him. He grabbed it, hoping against hope that it was Shouta or Giran or Kurogiri, but instead it was-

"Zaza," said the voice of Nemuri on the other line, sounding overly concerned, "where are you? Is everything okay? I thought you guys were coming over."

"Muri!" he croaked desperately, his body trembling. He felt sick. "Is Sho with you? Or Giran? Or Kurogiri? Do you know a man in a black suit? Please, Nemu-ri," his voice cracked, "I don't…I don't…"

"Hizashi," she said more urgently, "where are you? What happened?"

He dropped the phone as memory washed over him.

_You three belong to me._

No, no, no… This couldn't… It couldn't…

He grabbed his phone from the ground, ignoring the cry of 'Hizashi, Hizashi' in Nemuri's anxious voice as he thoughtlessly hung up so he could open the tracking app. Shouta still had the tracker! He could find him! He could _save_ him!

To his relief, the tracker _did _show the location, but…

Shouta Aizawa was in _America._

"Sho," he said, voice crackling as the pieces fell into place. The Villain in the suit had been one of Simon's contacts. A Quirk that allowed the user to take or return Quirks… He must've been Nezu's original owner. Hizashi had interrupted his plans, and he'd taken his loved ones as compensation.

He had to go to America! He had to save Shouta before the tracking device was discovered!

Hizashi leaned against the bar as his entire body swayed. His phone was ringing again, but the sound was ignored.

The truth was hard to swallow: even if he did find them, Hizashi would be _useless _against the Villain in the suit… He needed help, and there was only one person in the entire world who might be able to stand up to that power:

All-Might.

He wasn't really sure how he got there, whether he'd splurged for a taxi or if he'd managed the full, memorised commute, but Hizashi Yamada soon found himself stumbling into Hero HQ in partial villain attire. He didn't notice the enormous hand-shaped bruise that turned his entire neck a sickly purple, but everyone else did. They tried to help him, to stop him, but his goal was single-minded as he ran through the halls.

Thankfully, the man he needed to see was there. Hizashi burst through the door, catching the hero – no, the _Hero _\- by complete surprise.

All-Might being in Japan could not be a coincidence.

"You're here for _him, _right?" Hizashi blurted, his voice quavering. So much was riding on this. Nothing mattered except Shouta and Giran and Kurogiri. Nothing mattered except his loved ones. "The man who takes Quirks is the one you want."

The Symbol of Peace stared for a few moments, before he beelined directly for him and made to put his large hand on Hizashi's shoulder – the same shoulder the man in the suit had used to steal his Quirk.

The villain leapt back before he could touch him, almost freaking out when his back bumped against the wall. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a _mistake._

Oh god, he was cornered. He'd be silenced and forced into prison without anyone listening to him. All-Might wouldn't care about his loved ones! Heroes didn't help people like Present Mic.

Heroes didn't help villains: they just locked them up and threw away the key.

All-Might stepped away and put his hands up, clearly taken aback by his fear. "I'm sorry, young man, ah… Mr. Yamada. Please, tell me about this 'man who takes Quirks'…" His blue eyes focused on his neck, but Hizashi didn't know why at the time.

He swallowed, although it hurt. "He took it – my Quirk – and took _them. _I was going to _die, _so they agreed, and he gave it back, but I blacked out, and now they're in America, and you need to save them, because I'm… Because I…" Hizashi's body curled forward and his fingers buried themselves in his short blond hair as he choked out the words that had always haunted him: "_I should've been stronger."_

How could he have _ever_ thought he could be more powerful than someone like All-Might? Even being the most feared villain in the world was an impossible dream.

In this world, Hizashi Yamada just couldn't compete, and now he'd lost his _everything_.

"Mr. Yamada, please take deep breaths and explain carefully. _Who_ is in America?"

Hizashi swallowed again and held up the phone to show him the tracker. "The_ Villain_ took them – my friends. He took them in exchange for me. You're the only one who can save them. Please, I'll come clean about _everything. _I'll do _anything_ to have them saved! That's why you're here, right? Because you're following the Quirk-Stealer. I can help you find him, any way I can. I'm _useful._ _Please, _I need to save him!"

He must've looked crazy, and a small part of him realised it. As he did so, an odd sense of calm rushed through him and he collapsed into a seated position with his back against the wall.

"Mr. Yamada…?" chanced the Symbol of Peace.

Hizashi exhaled slowly. "**I'm a villain**," he admitted. It was so easy to say now, so easy to give away his big secret, like it was nothing, even to the number one Hero in the world. "I'm a villain, All-Might. I wanted to be a hero so bad, wanted to be just like you, but everyone told me I _couldn't…_ except Shouta. My friends are villains too, but… I'm desperate." Despite his calm voice, he could feel hot tears rolling down his cheeks, yet they didn't feel like his. "If it means you'll save them from the Quirk-Stealer, then I'll do _anything_." Just as they'd promised to do anything to save him. He looked up at All-Might, and a sterile realisation wrapped over Hizashi. "You need me," he added calmly, "because you're desperate too."

All-Might stared at him, his trademark grin nowhere in sight.

So Hizashi grinned _for him_, despite the flood of tears. "If I'd been more like you – a Hero – maybe I could've been strong enough." His voice crackled on the last few words. The smile grew more and more taxing, but he kept it up. "_Please_, All-Might…"

The hulking man crouched in front of him, and although they were still far from eyelevel, the shift offered his mind some reprieve. All-Might reached for his hand, and Hizashi let him take it.

"_We _will save your friends."

The blond stared through the orange lenses and the liquified sorrow. All-Might was going to help. All-Might was going to help. His mouth, however, moved of its own accord. "…_We?"_

"Yes, young man," the Symbol of Peace said, his voice a beacon of comfort and calm in a sea of chaos and turmoil, "for you too can become a hero."

-?-

_? Years Later_

_The streets were busy at this time of night: far too busy. As he walked through the crowds, he kept his head low, a mop of black hair obscuring his face from the chaotic masses. They swarmed around him, like discordant insects, and one figure clumsily brushed against his shoulder._

_It would've been so easy to reach out and crush the impudent bug, but he didn't wish to risk being punished by Father. If he caused an unwanted scene, then Father would have to scold him, and he didn't want to ever disappoint him._

_He controlled himself as he cut through the crowds. Overhead, the sky was dark with night, yet the lights of the glowing city clambered so badly for attention that there were no stars to be seen. The giant screens in the square were typically covered with advert after advert after sickening advert, yet today something different stared down at the scene._

_"[It was so outta nowhere,]" murmured one of the nearby voices. They had stopped with their companion to gaze up at the flashing screen, as many others had around them._

_While the man had not intended to stop here, he made the mistake of looking up too. His feet faltered._

_"[Guess all heroes have a personal life,]" commented the companion of the first voice. "[I heard the other one's pretty popular in Japan, so maybe they have a lot in common.]"_

_The faces on the screen were bright and cheery. The first was known to everybody, especially here in America: All-Might was the number one hero in the entire world, after all. In the picture he was a godly beacon of justice in his hero costume, but he knew his Father had badly wounded him some time ago. How long? He didn't know. Father had been wounded too, but his Father was strong and had persevered._

_"[I dunno; guess I never really thought the Pillar of Justice swung that way, but I'm pleasantly surprised. They suit each other.]"_

_The other man in the image was younger than All-Might. In fact, he was probably about the same age as the man standing in Times Square, an ocean away… No, he definitely was, but he couldn't pinpoint the number. On the screen, the figure had long blond hair, gelled up tall, and he wore orange specs to mask a pair of- …_

_What colour were his eyes again? He couldn't remember that either. He knew he'd once known the blond man so well, yet that time was long gone, now less memorable than a faded dream._

_He remembered the stranger's name though, and…_

_From his pocket he pulled his Charm. Father had let him keep it. Father was kind like that. Once he'd shown he could be trusted, Father let him get away with a lot. By now the charm was falling apart. It had once been a star on a keyring, but the metal was badly rusted, and the star was missing several corners. Even so, holding it always soothed him, and with the weight in his hand he remembered._

_Green: the man's eyes had been green like emeralds._

_"[You gonna watch the ceremony?]" The two annoyances were still chatting away, and they were getting on his nerves._

_"[I bet the whole world's gonna watch!]"_

_His fingers curled around the Charm while his eyes glanced to the writing on the screen. The English text was bold and bright and he couldn't help but read it…_

_The man looked away at last as he continued cutting through the crowd, trying his best not to touch any of the figures around him. The Charm was returned to his pocket, but as he left the chaos, he took a moment to lean against a tall building. He felt weak, although the reason was unclear. As he paused, he caught sight of his own reflection in a dirty window that had no light beyond it. It was such a stark contrast to the bright, glowing screens overhead that had depicted the heroes._

_His own hair was long and dirty. There was no reason to cut it, and no reason to wash it. His scruff had also grown some, but it never grew to a length that could be considered a beard. Part of his fringe constantly __**floated, **__and his right eye was black yet bloodshot, completely ringed by insomnia. His left eye, in contrast, was covered by a surgical eyepatch, and a jagged scar crept beneath it._

_His head ached, as it typically did, but the image on the screens had made it even worse. What information had he read again? Right…_

_**ONE MONTH UNTIL THE WEDDING OF ALL-MIGHT AND PRESENT MIC! SAVE THE DATE, AMERICA!**_

_Right: that. He __**did**__ still remember the blond man's name though. Yes, he couldn't remember his own anymore, but he'd never forget the other's: his name was Hizashi Yamada, and his eyes were green like emeralds and he was a pro-hero, while he-…_

_He was Eraserhead._

_His eyes were black and red._

_And he was a __**Villain**__._

**_INTERMISSION_**

* * *

Hi guys! Sorry but Violent Delights is on a (hopefully short) hiatus while I write up some more chapters! Sorry it took me ages to update on FF.N, I'm really forgetful! I have a tumblr, Instagram and AO3 at ForTheWoolfy if you wanna stay updated! We will be back soon, and we'll get to see how the years have changed both our poor boys!


	34. Dream

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

Dream

"I had a dream, I got everything I wanted,

Not what you'd think, and if I'm bein' honest,

It might've been a nightmare."

\- Everything I Wanted (Billie Eilish)

-?-

Buildings trembled as violent explosions rocked the city. A hulking figure pounded their fists against the ground at the centre of the chaos. "PUNY CITY! I'LL CRUSH YOU GOOD!" bellowed the villain, and apparently it was no exaggeration, proven when they turned to a nearby building and knocked it over with a single punch.

People ran screaming in all directions, and although several heroes did their best to slow the hulking form, they were all struggling. Kamui Woods supported several buildings with his thick branches, Mt. Lady held up another two, and other patrol heroes were doing their best to slow the villain down until more help arrived.

The problem was simple, yet crucial: everyone was uncoordinated. Civilians fled in each and every direction, panicking, without knowing where safety was. The giant villain lashed out at the swarm of heroes annoying it and knocked over another building in the frantic attack.

As it toppled, the heroes watched in horror as a mother dashed into its intended path, moving to shield her child from its deadly weight. Screams tore through the air as the building crashed. A grimy cloud of dust consumed the scene.

It was as if everything stopped, but then…

The building _quaked._ An entire section of wall was blasted to smithereens. The woman rushed out with her child, both safe and unharmed, and from the new entryway stepped none other than the greatest hero in the world.

"Never fear, for I am here!" All-Might called, his trademark grin firmly in place. Everyone cheered for their saviour, but then another voice echoed across the tumultuous scene.

"_**I think you mean WE are here, baby~!"**_ Eyes turned to a nearby building, where the voice had resonated from, and standing atop the roof was the Voice Hero: Present Mic. His grin was just as wide as All-Might's, and his leather costume created a perfect silhouette with the sun just beyond his form. His golden hair was gelled up tall, his orange specs covered his eyes, and about his neck was his famous Directional Speaker. "_**What's the hold up, [listeners]? LET'S GET THIS PART-AY MOVIN'!"**_

All-Might fought the giant villain head-on, while Present Mic used his voice to direct the evacuation in a calm, orderly manner (well, as calm and orderly as the energetic hero could manage). With the villain preoccupied, the heroes were able to focus their efforts on saving wounded civilians from the rubble as they followed the Voice Hero's directions to a T.

Things were looking up for the city.

Of course everyone knew about the two lovebirds: All-Might and Present Mic were to be married in a month! Their story was a hopeful one of redemption and salvation and it now had its happily ever after on the horizon.

Present Mic had once been a villain, but the Symbol of Peace had saved him. For the public, the famous engagement _was_ sudden, despite the years they must've known each other. Maybe they'd fallen in love only recently, at UA Academy… They were both _teachers _there after all! The public talked and the rumours were plentiful.

In fact, the lovebirds had been on their way to school when the attack happened, and Mic checked his watch after a short while. "_**Woah babe, we're gonna be late! Don't wanna set a bad example for the kiddies, do we?" **_Without further to do, the Voice Hero stepped off the building and plummeted several storeys without even breaking a sweat. All-Might downed the villain with one final punch and leapt towards his fiancé, managing to catch him mid-air – bridal style. When they landed, a small crater formed around the Symbol of Peace's feet, but when the smoke cleared they were both unharmed. "_**Thanks for the catch, All-Bae~" **_He put his arms around his fiancé and kissed him on the cheek.

His engagement ring sparkled in the light, expensive and gaudy and heavy.

Some cameras flashed, signifying that they'd _definitely_ be on the front-page, and All-Might carried him off with another bound. Present Mic had his eyes on his watch, but thankfully they arrived before the first bell rang, and the two ducked away into a private staffroom.

As soon as they did, Present Mic slammed the door and a puff of smoke signified his fiancé running out of time. When the blond glanced back at All-Might, he was now a very different sight. Rather than beefy and Adonis-like, he was long and skeletal. His face was drawn to a sharp point and although his eyes were still piercing blue, they were masked by weariness and depth. His hero clothes hung off him, far too large for his shrunken form, and he instantly hacked up a mouthful of blood.

"Woah, woah, careful fiancé!" called Mic while righting his orange specs and striding to his side. "You over do the time, and you ain't gonna be teachin' the kids jack today! How ya feelin'?"

Yagi Toshinori sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "I… may have over done it a little…"

"Ya think?" The Voice Hero snorted and smacked him on the back, almost knocking him over. "I'd 'relief' for ya, babe, but we all know they wouldn't let _me _teach a _Heroics _class!"

Toshi continued to look sheepish, and somewhat disappointed. "I'll have to notify Kayama. Don't think I have enough time for the full class period… Midoriya's going to be so upset…"

"Midoriya-shmidoriya! Your health comes first, honey bun!" He fixed up his fiancé's tie. "Want me to write ya some HUGE HEROIC speech that'll get their blood pumpin'? I've been _dyin'_ to use some pyrotechnics!"

"That really won't be necessary, Mic…"

"Such a downer~" he said with a pout. "Ya want me to talk with Nem?"

"Maybe, although _I_ should take responsibility…" He scratched the back of his head again. "Besides, you already do a lot. Don't you think you're going a little overboard with … well … everything?"

Present Mic laughed and pet him on the back again, but a lot gentler this time. "It's _your _weddin'! Think the world would let me live it down if it wasn't the biggest shindig possible? Just gotta nail out that timetable 'round your size-up to give you some decent breaks. My shapeshifter bud says he's willin' to help in a pinch, but let's try to avoid that – don't want it going to his head that he 'played All-Might'."

Toshinori exhaled, and changed the subject. "I might need to lay down…"

"Right, just don't overdo it tomorrow, baby! If ya miss out on the USJ excursion, I bet Midnight'd gut ya!" He laughed, but the Symbol of Peace did _not_ look pleased. "Relax, big man, I'll let her down ea-zay! You rest up, and I'll see you at home tonight!"

Toshi nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you tonight…"

-x-

Present Mic sat at his teaching desk in the staff room, staring at a wad of papers. Being the Head of English meant it was his job to write up each year's subject program and to ensure it met the teaching standards and goals, and while the next teaching year was still a full … well … _year_ away, it gave him something to do.

Beside him was a stack of tests, already marked thrice, checked twice, and cross-marked once, but his original grading was most often correct. Maybe he should start marking them wrong the first time, just to give him something extra to do when it came around to checking it over again. Today the students would be sitting a grammar test, but it was easy to mark since it wasn't very complex and parts of it were multiple choice. At least he was looking forward to grading some third-year essays, but they wouldn't come in until the end of the week.

His eyes moved to his gloves. A long time ago he'd worn _red_ fingerless gloves with black lining, but now the colours were inverted. They still had the taser in the centre of each palm - although currently they were turned off - yet it was the design he really focused on. Yes, because the black gloves with the red lining were based on gloves once worn by someone else. Yes, they were like those once worn by-

"Mic!" He spun around on his chair, grin instantly fixed in place. None other than the R-Rated Hero: Midnight stood behind him, her hands on her hips and her face visibly disgruntled. "Wanna tell me why your fiancé is skipping class _again?"_

Present Mic grinned widely and propped his boots up on his desk, although he was careful to avoid the pile of student work – Bakugou would get upset if there were boot marks on his test _again. _"Maybe I kept him up too long last night~"

Midnight's eye twitched, but she held onto her annoyed composure. "You wanna try that again, _Present Mic_?"

He snorted. "Baby, don't go lookin' at lil ol' me! I'm innocent, yo! Don't cha ever check the news? All-Might got into a scrap with a villain, and hit his limit harder than a third-year 'round exam time!"

Midnight exhaled and ran a hand through her long, dark hair as she contemplated the answer. "Fine, but tell him not to overdo it. We've got the USJ excursion coming up – the kids'll be devastated if he isn't there."

The thirty-year-old snickered and spun his chair with his feet now in the air. "You mean **ONE** student will be devastated, Teach! Poor little baby boy Midoriya!"

She rolled her eyes, but a thin smile tightened her lips. "Bet you get a real earful from him."

"You **BET**!" His chair stopped and he examined the expensive ring on his finger. "Always asks 'bout how I got together with the Symbol of Peace and ended up seducing him! Well, not his exact words, but…"

"Which lie did you tell him?"

For a moment, Mic stared beyond her into the corner of the room. Dark mist oozed from the wall, billowing and dripping in a formless void. It crept across the carpet and tumbled over tables. Staff were soundlessly consumed as it edged towards him, closer and closer, and his heart hammered as he perceived a form inside the smoke: a single hand reaching out. Whether it wanted to drag him in, or whether it wanted to be saved was unknown, and yet his own hand itched to meet it. He-

"Mic?" Midnight's voice snapped him back to reality. A cold sweat broke across his skin, although the hallucination had vanished for now. The room was in a state of normalcy, with other staff going about their day, with the only oddity being the concerned expression on the R-Rated Hero's face. "How much sleep _are _you getting?"

He smoothed a bit of hair away from his face, ensuring it stayed gelled and tall while also subtly wiping away a bead of clammy sweat. "What can I say? I'm a busy kinda guy!"

She exhaled, although the concerned expression only deepened. "We should go out tonight, just the two of us. I'm sure All-Might can take care of his own dinner, and-"

"Sorry bud, but you can stop right there! My schedule is _[BOOKED TIGHT!]_ You realise how much planning a _wedding _takes, right? Oh wait, no, not just a wedding, but a wedding that'll be _broadcasted to the entire world!_ My plate is _[crazy __**full**__!]_"

Midnight scratched the back of her head. "I know you're just trying to keep busy so you don't have to think about-"

She was interrupted by a blaring alarm.

The conversation ended immediately as they raced to their emergency stations, with Mic co-ordinating the staff in an orderly manner and Midnight racing to the muster point so she could check over her homeroom class and ensure they were all safe.

-x-

Reporters filled in the entrance area of the school, having somehow broken through the intensive barrier. Mic was able to relax for a moment at the thought that his students were safe, but that relief didn't make the media vanish. The man travelled down the stairwell, his feet moving in time with the blaring alarm, and he was out the front door in minutes.

"Woah, woah, woah, _[listeners]!_ You ain't supposed to be in here!" Maybe he could beat them up… No, he was supposed to be the _reformed_ villain - doing something like that wouldn't be acceptable. He had to uphold a far higher standard than other heroes.

"We need to speak with All-Might!" one called out, waving a microphone to show her desperation.

He held up his hands defensively. "All-Might's already left campus today. You'd be better off-"

"Wait! You're Present Mic!" The crowd grew frenzied. A wave of eagerness rushed through him, until they called out, "You're All-Might's fiancé!"

Mic's eye twitched behind his orange specs, but none of the people noticed. Even in the world spotlight, he was still in a shadow… Even so, Present Mic grinned and put on a show.

"That's me, _[Listeners_]! All-Might's one true love! _[So much love!] _Well, his one true love _after _saving the day!"

**Media whore**, murmured a voice beside him: a voice he knew wasn't real. Yes, because beside him was… Shouta Aizawa.

His hair was soft and black, while his eyes were bloodshot. Fresh stubble peppered his lower jaw, and his arms were folded over his chest like a disapproving lover… Except…

It _wasn't _Shouta Aizawa. This one's face was forever twenty-two. Even though it looked like him and talked like him and moved like him, it was just a hallucination: a hopeful figment of his imagination. It was an imaginary guest he'd seen for over a year now, and yet…

_I know_, he thought back, ignoring the pain the voice's accusation brought. _But I'm doing this all for you, Sho._

**Yeah right. You've always wanted attention. Eight years and you haven't changed.**

He swallowed, but didn't let anything show in his demeanour as he grinned at the crowd and showed off his wedding ring.

"Why did All-Might become a teacher?"

"Did All-Might plan the proposal?"

"What is All-Might like when you're at home together?"

_All-Might. All-Might. All-Might._

**See**, said the voice, **you're as petty as you've always been. You didn't do this for **_**me**_**: you did this because you'll **_**always**_ **be an attention whore.**

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ He thought back, even as his mouth gushed about how amazing his fiancé was.

**You've got the fame you've always wanted,** said the imaginary Shouta as he shook his head like some wise sage, **and are you happy? This is what you wanted and you're **_**miserable**_**. You're worthless and no one really cares about you. They only pretend to be interested in you. You're not really a hero: you're an imposter. You're an imposter and everyone is going to realise it and you're going to be thrown into jail and you're going to die alone. I sacrificed myself for nothing.**

Mic's mouth stopped working mid-sentence. The crowd fell silent.

"…You're all technically trespassing," he said, his smile never faltering, "and you have a total of… three snazzy minutes to skedaddle before the boss appears and has you arrested!"

"Please, one more comment!"

He inhaled deeply. All about him was black mist, with hand after hand reaching out for him, yet he was untouched at the centre of everything. "_[Okie dokie!] _If my _[lover boy] _is watching this, then I have one thing to say…" Present Mic stood tall, even when he was falling to pieces. It was as if every reporter there was gone, and it was just him and the phantom Shouta: the only member of his audience he really cared about. Yes, because the _real _one could be anywhere. Well, anywhere _except _at his side, but that was okay.

If the world was watching Present Mic, then so was Eraserhead.

"I love you~" he declared with a wink to the faceless masses. "Get home safe, cause you know I'll be waiting~"

To most people it was a loving decree to the Symbol of Peace: to everyone who knew better, it was a plea of desperation.

The press didn't stick around after the guards appeared, and neither did Present Mic. Even as he moved, however, the silhouette followed him.

**What if I'm a ghost? **Shouta asked, and the blond let his smile fall once they were alone. **What if I'm already dead, and it's already too late?**

Mic took to leaning against a wall, his body feeling horribly sluggish and unfamiliar, as if it didn't belong to him anymore. The hallways were empty of both students and faculty, and in another situation, he might've wondered how his classes were doing, but… Well, he was just having a bad day today.

Mic shook his head and he finally spoke to the apparition. "Baby, you might sound like Sho, but you're _not him_." He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes to centre himself. The breathing techniques helped him relax. "My Shouta would never call me an imposter…" Present Mic _grinned_ and the black mist vanished, along with the fleeting figment, yet his smile stayed. "I'm a Pro-Hero, baby, whether I deserve it or not." He pulled his phone out and unlocked it just so he could stare at the background image…

Fifteen years: it had been fifteen long years since that day he and Shouta had first met beneath the cherry blossom tree. On that day they'd promised to become heroes together. Their faces in the image were young and innocent and completely oblivious. Even so, he wasn't jealous of the children in the picture: he was happy for them.

At the back of his mind was one final voice. It was small and quiet, but it was his own: it was the whisper of Hizashi Yamada.

_I'm a hero, Sho, and I'll never give up trying to save you. I haven't failed yet._


	35. Ache

Chapter Thirty-Five

Ache

"_In my head I repeat our conversations,_

_Over and over 'til they feel like hallucinations,_

_You know me, I love to lose my mind._

_And every time anybody speaks your name,_

_I still feel the same, I ache, I ache, I ache inside."_

\- The Last Day on Earth (Kate Miller-Heidke)

The scent of hearty broth and steamed vegetables filled the decently-sized kitchen, overpowering the subtle scent of the nearby rice cooker as it worked up a batch of the staple food. If the person doing the cooking hadn't been singing, other sounds might've also permeated the air: the bubbling of the metal pot, the rhythmic tap of a knife against a chopping board, and the drone of the fan as it dispelled the steam. However, the man _was _singing, and his voice overpowered everything else.

"_[Shadows settle on the place that you left,]"_ Hizashi sang as he cooked, the words coming out automatically as he focused his efforts on preparing the large meal, "_[our minds are troubled by the emptiness.]"_

His long hair was tied in a messy bun and he'd been quick to change out of his hero attire after his patrol earlier that night, so he even wore his round glasses, although they steamed up so easily.

"_[Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time, from the perfect start to the finish line.]" _He stirred the broth and checked his watch. His companion was running late, but he'd already accounted for that in his cooking time – after all, his fiancé was _always _late for dinner. He slipped the vegetables into the broth so they had a chance to absorb the flavour, but decided to wait a little longer for the udon. "_[And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones, cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs~]"_

He cracked an egg into a bowl, and the sound accidentally synced with the front door opening to reveal his skeletal fiancé with a sheepish smile. "I'm home," Toshi called as he shut the door behind him.

"Welcome home," Hizashi habitually answered. "Dinner'll be ready soon! You got enough muscles left to serve the rice?"

It had taken him a while to learn how to cook, but he didn't regret it. Cooking was surprisingly enjoyable and it gave him something extra to fill his day.

Hizashi placed the sukiyaki hot pot on the centre of the table, ensuring the portable stove was set beneath it to keep it bubbling as he finally put the thinly sliced beef in the broth. Toshinori filled two bowls with white rice and set them out carefully. "Sorry I was late tonight," apologised the Symbol of Peace. "I had to give Midoriya a bit of a pep talk."

"Hope the kid's okay after the alarm!" Hizashi pulled two beers from the fridge and used the edge of the table to flip the lid off each, before he handed one to Toshinori. "Most were totally flippin' out, yo!"

All-Might looked away, a guilty expression crossing his withered face. "Sorry… If I'd been on campus, then-"

"_[Chillax, small big guy!]" _he said with a laugh as they sat down to eat. "All news is good news as long as I'm in it!" Yagi sighed, but they both said their thanks for the food and dug in. "Nem wasn't too happy 'bout you ditchin' her class though!" He snickered as he used his chopsticks to pick out some vegetables while the beef continued to cook through. "Bet she'll lose her mind if ya end up ditchin' the USJ tomorrow!"

"I know…" Toshinori didn't look at all pleased at the prospect.

Hizashi softened. "You saved the day though," he said with a shrug, his voice more genuine. "Sometimes just bein' a good role model for the kids is the best lesson you can teach."

All-Might looked at him, the steam from the hot pot doing little to obscure the view, and whatever he saw made him grin. "You get that one from a motivational teacher book?"

The DJ snorted and poked at the meat with his chopsticks, deciding it was finally cooked through. He took out a piece, dipped it in the raw egg and ate it, while Yagi did the same. "Look, if ya can't make it tomorrow, I'll go with the kids."

"Hizashi," he said, voice disapproving, "give yourself a break. Keep going at this speed, and you're going to crash."

The blond rolled his eyes and picked at his bowl of rice. "'A good teacher is like a candle: consumes itself to light the way for others'. There, now _that one _was from a motivational teacher book!" He snorted and sipped his beer.

Yagi winced. "I'll control myself on my way to school tomorrow."

"I won't tell ya not to be a hero if someone's in trouble. The kids'll bounce back if their teacher misses a lesson or two: someone else might need you more…" After all, if Yagi had been there _that day_, things might've turned out differently… Hizashi stared thoughtfully into the bubbling hotpot. The white steam turned black and nebulous, and from its centre emerged pale fingers that grabbed for him… This time, however, Hizashi broke the illusion by closing his eyes and shaking his head.

When he opened them again, the hallucination was gone, although concern was writ over All-Might's face. "Bad day?"

"What made ya ask?"

The hero's blue eyes turned away. "You only sing when you're upset."

"...Just nearing that time of year," he said softly. Nothing more needed to be explained.

The silence was interrupted by a gentle 'meow' and they both glanced to the doorway as Heater wandered inside and sat beside her empty food bowl.

Hizashi got up to feed the old cat, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Hey girl, you hungry? Want some din-dins?" In response, she curled around his legs and purred like a jet engine. He snickered and filled her bowl as he stroked along her spine.

"What's on the schedule for this week?" Yagi asked as he set to work on eating his own bowl of rice.

Hizashi let the cat eat in peace as he returned to the table and picked out a long udon noodle. It was too much food for the both of them, but he'd done that on purpose: they'd have enough for lunch tomorrow. "You've gotta have the final fitting for your suit," he said after slurping up the noodle, "and we've gotta arrange the table locations for our guests."

Toshinori scratched the back of his head. "Who would've thought a wedding would be so much to plan…"

"Literally everyone except you," he pointed out dryly, and the Symbol of Peace sheepishly flinched. Hizashi relaxed. "It's fine though; don't feel bad 'bout it. As much as I complain, I'm super grateful…"

Despite the soft words, the atmosphere dampened. Yagi nodded. "I'm sure he's seen you."

Hizashi nodded, but hid his curled fists beneath the table. "Just hope he still knows me as well as he used to…"

Dinner progressed as it usually did: they talked about their day, joked about the students, ate until they were comfortably full. Hizashi set to work on packing up the leftovers for lunch tomorrow while Yagi insisted on helping clean up the kitchen. Heater happily got in the way of their feet, but both men were used to dodging her by now.

"I'm going to bed," Toshinori said after everything was packed away. "You okay with second shower?"

"Course," he said chirpily, "got some stuff to do anyway!"

All-Might disappeared to take his shower while Hizashi took to doing some late-night cleaning on their spacious apartment. Not long after, it was time for his own shower, and he took his hearing-aids out beforehand. Thankfully he wasn't hallucinating Shouta tonight, so the world remained quiet without them in – it was impossible to block out a fictional voice.

When Hizashi stepped out the shower, however, he noticed the screen of his phone was illuminated, and when he checked it he exhaled an annoyed sigh. He'd missed a call from a private number. There was no voice message either. Strange…

If it was important, they'd call again.

Soon he found himself in the dark bedroom, his eyes glancing over the large shape in his bed… Before he instead went to his desk to do some marking.

The phone didn't ring again, and he didn't try to figure out who might've been trying to reach him or why – he was a popular guy, after all.

He picked up Kaminari's grammar test, and immediately put it near the bottom of his pile of twenty-one, deciding to mark that one _later_. From his desk he picked up his red pen and set to work…

Soon it was nearing 2am. His vision was blurry, and he'd have to get up for work in only a few hours. Even so, he smiled as he finished marking Bakugou's test, since he'd left that one for last. His grammar skills were always good, his writing as fiery as his temper was. The kid was smart, and one of the few people he knew who could understand Japanese Sign Language and who also needed hearing-aids thanks to their Quirk. Despite all that, the kid was always flippant around him, and didn't even try to mask his hatred for the ex-villain. Hizashi didn't take it personally.

With the tests all marked, he finally stood up, removed his hearing-aids and stripped down to his underwear in preparation for bed. As he crawled under the sheets, his body heavy with exhaustion, he was careful to avoid the dark silhouette on the opposite side. Hizashi watched it for a moment, but didn't let himself do so for long as he finally let himself sleep and…

_He was back in the bar, laughing with Kurogiri and Giran and All-Might. Huh, why was the hero there? Eh, it didn't really matter because they were all having a great time… Or, they _were _until Giran said something, and although he couldn't understand the words exactly, he understood the meaning. It was some sort of warning, about how they were being too loud and someone dangerous might hear them._

_Hizashi didn't care. They had All-Might there, and they were waiting for Shouta to arrive. If they weren't loud, then he wouldn't be able to find them! The logic made sense in the dream._

_They were loud, and their laughter drowned out Giran's warning. Hizashi joked with All-Might, but when he turned back to include the information broker in some unknown punchline, he was gone. In his place was black mist._

_Confused, Hizashi turned to Kurogiri. His blood froze. The bartender was slumped over the counter, with thick red cables protruding from his back._

_The Quirk-Stealer was using Kurogiri's Quirk! He was back! Hizashi tried to go to the bartender's aid, but the floor vanished, replaced by mist. From the depths emerged writhing hands, rising like zombies from the grave._

_Hizashi stepped back, but bumped into something large. He turned, but was momentarily relieved to see the powerful figure of All-Might, his grin wide and his face concealed in shadow. The ex-villain went to say something, but no words emerged._

_A stranger's hand gripped his shoulder._

_Hizashi couldn't turn to see who it belonged to, but he knew: All For One._

_He couldn't breathe._

_Red, tangled cords rose behind All-Might. Mic tried to scream some sort of warning, but his Voice was gone. The cables plunged into All-Might's back. His trademark smile was expunged._

_The left side of his torso smouldered into fragments and Hizashi watched in horror as the Symbol of Peace shrunk to his smaller, skeletal form. A horrific scar deformed his torso, and blood poured from his mouth like a faucet. Hizashi reached for the hero, but the black mist completely enveloped him._

Everything _was enveloped by the mist._

_The hand squeezed his shoulder. His struggle for breath did not relent. With his last burst of energy, Hizashi turned to face the man who'd stolen his Quirk, but …_

_Present Mic came face to face with a pair of __**glowing red eyes**__._

Hizashi inhaled so much air it made his lungs ache. A cold clammy sweat covered his skin, and as he glanced around his room, it took some time for his mind to settle. Beside him, the large silhouette had yet to be disturbed, but it was time for him to surrender to it.

He reached out and looped his arms around the dark shape in his bed, pulling it close. It was soft and comforting against his body, and he pressed his face into it to inhale the familiar scent. The fur was worn down, with some of the colour now faded from repeated washings, but the large cat plushie was just as comforting as the day Shouta had won it for him.

He held the plushie close in his arms and rolled around the empty bed a few times, trying to find a new, comfortable position. Finally his heart and breathing returned to a regular rhythm, and Hizashi was able to let himself fall back to sleep with the large cat sparing him from any further nightmares.

-?-

The bar was smaller than the last one, but that really didn't matter since the clientele would be few and far between. Kurogiri wished he could've set up in the old place, of course - even though he hadn't been there in years, he'd known it like the back of his misty-hand.

"Did you see this _joke?" _asked the man seated at the bar as he threw the newspaper down.

The headline was clear: _ALL-MIGHT BECOMES U.A. TEACHER WITH TRUE LOVE!_

Below was a photo of All-Might and Present Mic, dressed in their hero gear, and the latter was kissing his fiancé on the cheek. It was a nice picture, although Kurogiri wasn't certain about how he felt looking at it. Hizashi had always been a fickle one, but it was difficult to gauge how much he'd changed over the past eight years. Was this a plan or a publicity stunt? Potentially both, yet potentially neither…

Not that Hizashi would have much option. Kurogiri knew first hand how impossible it would be for- … Well.

What really had his interest was the man who'd spoken. His clothes were dark and wrinkled, while disembodied hands dotted his limbs and hid his face from view. He knew the man well, of course: Tomura Shigaraki. He was his Master's protégé.

"It says he's a teacher now," the man continued, his voice a mixture of disgust and disbelief. He placed his glass beside the photo and let the condensation soak into the page, dirtying the image Kurogiri had been trying to examine. "A teacher at U.A. with his little loud _lovebird… _Hey, what d'ya think'll happen when the mighty Symbol of Peace … is finally _killed _by the _villains?"_

At the back of the bar crouched a nomu, a hulking beast that had once been human, until their Master had 'fixed' him. It was their secret weapon and would be used to kill All-Might, along with his students, tomorrow at the USJ. While Kurogiri soured at the prospect of murdering children, he didn't dwell too heavily on that detail. They were future heroes, after all.

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Kurogiri asked, but his answer was interrupted by the door opening. In stepped Giran, his face displeased as he parked himself at the bar.

"The old place was better," he said without so much as a glance at Shigaraki. Giran placed his phone upside-down on the counter, the camera facing up, and the bartender understood the meaning: he hadn't been able to contact Hizashi. "Too bad heroes know about it."

Kurogiri poured a whisky and slid it to him, but it moved a little too far on the counter. Giran made no comment as he scooped up the glass and downed the drink in a single gulp. "Right," murmured Shigaraki as he tapped his finger on the photo, "that little _hero lover."_ His nail dug into the already sodden picture and he frantically scratched out Present Mic's face. "Insolent _bug_. Gives villains a bad name… You read half the crap they write 'bout him? 'Ex-Villain changed forever by love'! How'd such a minor character became a major _pain…?_ How I'd like to show him what it takes to be a _real _villain…" Kurogiri and Giran glanced at one another, but they didn't say a word. Instead, someone _else _growled:

"Off-Limits."

The bar dampened at the unexpected voice. None of them had even heard the man enter, yet there he stood beside the door, his clothes blending in with the darkness. He must've snuck in behind Giran, for there was no way they would've _not _noticed him sooner.

Eraserhead had a habit of sticking out once noticed, thanks to the glowing red circle on one side of his mask.

Shigaraki's body shuddered, and his scratching grew more frantic. "No one asked for _your _opinion on this," he growled without looking back.

The red of the villain's mask jittered while the other side remained dark. "_Off-Limits_," he repeated, ensuring the message was loud and clear. The orange-tinted lights of the bar unintentionally reflected off the black spikes that lined his capture weapon.

"Present Mic is off-limits," Kurogiri agreed, mostly for Shigaraki's sake. "Master doesn't want him harmed."

That had been the agreement that he, Giran and the old Aizawa had made. Hizashi Yamada was to come to no harm. Shigaraki, however, was unaware of the reason.

"I know, I know," he grumbled. "Such a stupid success criteria…" It should be okay though. Even if Giran hadn't contacted him, there was no reason for Present Mic to be at the USJ tomorrow. "Master send you for a reason," Shigaraki continued, "or you just sniffing around to be annoying? You really piss me off..."

Eraserhead glanced around the room, and for a brief moment the other lens of his mask flared with life. His dark hair rose. Giran's phone sparked, and the broker cursed, but then it was over. The second lens grew dull again while the other remained glowing - had never once _stopped _glowing. His hair dropped back down, although his fringe continued to lazily float.

Eraserhead left without another word.

Shigaraki 'tsked' in disgust. "To be annoying then."

"He's evaluating the area," Giran explained as he pulled out an unlit cigarette and pushed his phone away, "figuring out where all the cameras are. He'll give the final say on whether this spot is good or not."

Shigaraki scoffed and took to scratching All-Might's picture as well. "Should be _your_ job…"

The information broker shook his head. "If anyone knows how to find cameras, it's Eraserhead."

Right, there was a chance Hizashi's marriage was genuine, and Kurogiri was hoping for it, despite their plans. It would be for the best if the blond had moved beyond Aizawa because… well, Aizawa was no more. All that was left was Eraserhead.

To call him a shadow of his former self would be a generous (and potentially lethal) understatement.

Aizawa had been a misguided man with a soft heart and a betrayed soul.

Eraserhead was a killer.

Despite his apparent protectiveness over Hizashi, Kurogiri doubted its authenticity. It was just an echo from the old Aizawa, some will that had miraculously persisted, but it wasn't rooted in love: for Eraserhead it would've been nothing more than an instinct, as automatic and unemotional as breathing.

Shigaraki and Giran continued to debate while the bartender memorised the new location of each brand of alcohol. Yes, Kurogiri missed the old bar, but for just a moment, this reminded him of old times.

Perhaps this new bar wasn't so different from the old one after all.


	36. Wish it was Me

Chapter Thirty-Six

Wish it was Me

"I can see, see the pain in your eyes  
Oh believe, believe me and I have tried.  
No I won't, I won't pretend to know what you've been through;  
You should know, I wish it was me and not you."  
\- Take on the World (You Me at Six)

Hizashi was up at his usual time - early - to make them both a quick breakfast. He decided on American omelettes as a nice surprise for his fiancé, but Hizashi was out the house before Toshi was up. The train was quiet at this time, so even though he wore his full hero attire, he only had to sign a few autographs, although he always felt the wariness in the gaze of some people. To many he would forever be the 'ex-villain'.

He was the first teacher to arrive in the staffroom, and he set to work on the usual morning routine. Hizashi answered any emails from staff and students, and sent out some emails to the parents of all his classes, dictating a detailed idea about that what they'd been learning that week.

"Those reporters were difficult to resist," said an unexpected voice. "Did you see the damage to the gate?"

He turned around in his chair, in time to watch the small principal happily stroll through the staffroom to where the tea was kept in a cupboard at his height. Nezu was thicker than he'd been all those years ago, but was easily recognisable with his rodent features.

"The gate?" Present Mic asked as he tilted his head. "Even my voice wouldn't be able to dent that beast." His tone was amazed rather than defensive. Nezu hadn't been accusing him of anything, even if others might've instantly suspected the ex-villain of the wrong-doing. The principal knew him too well.

"It wasn't merely damaged, but completely shattered." Nezu set to work on making himself a cup of tea, already knowing the blond would reject one if offered. "It seems we've attracted some attention, even if it's not necessarily unwanted…"

"You think _he's _behind it?" Mic glanced around the office, but even though they were alone he didn't dare say the name of All For One.

"Perchance," he said as he finished making his drink. "I suppose time will tell, but we need to be on guard."

"Preachin' to the choir, _[lil dude]..." _Mic leaned back in his chair and glanced to the bottom drawer of his desk, where a large yellow envelope was hidden away beneath unused English worksheets. "Any more sightings?"

"If there were, I would tell you. We've seen nothing for several years now," replied Nezu, his voice sounding less chirpy. "Many think he might be dead, but there _are _rumours…"

The blond shook his head. "He ain't dead: he's gotten better at hiding…" Nezu was quiet. Hizashi continued. "If All-Might pulls a no-show, I'll go on the excursion with class 1A."

The rodent nodded and sipped his steaming tea. "It would be good for you, and help with your rapport. Some of the students are uncertain of you, correct?"

He rolled his shoulders, but there was no reason to lie. His story was well-known.

Present Mic had been rescued by All-Might from the collapsed building, in the video that had gone viral. The Symbol of Peace had nursed him back to health, and he'd turned over a new leaf to become a hero. It had been a struggle - that part was no lie - but he didn't ever regret it…

Well, he _did _regret one aspect of it… He'd broken his promise to Shouta.

He'd become a hero without him, and now Eraserhead was … a villain. No, not just a regular villain. Hizashi didn't know much about it, but in the early days of the separation he hadn't been too hard to find. They'd tried to track him down using the tracker multiple times, but all without success until… That time five years ago, when All-Might had fought All For One and everything was supposed to end…

It hadn't.

Toshinori had been crippled in the attack. In fact, he'd almost_ died_. Mic had taken the information hard and initially blamed himself for it, but All-Might had pulled him from the rut quickly enough. He'd been searching for All For One for years, and with Hizashi's help he'd had the chance to confront him. Toshi had been thankful, and Mic had forgiven himself.

However, the Quirk Stealer hadn't died. If he _had _been gone, then surely Shouta and Giran and Kurogiri would've returned to him, and yet they hadn't, and … the tracker vanished for good.

Someone had destroyed it, and Hizashi had fallen into despair at the thought of failing, but… He hadn't failed yet.

There was no way Shouta was dead.

-x-

Hizashi made sure the students were seated on the bus before they took off. Despite his reassurance, Toshinori had used his Quirk on the way to school and had been unable to make it to the USJ. Nemuri was displeased at first, but cheered up at the prospect of Mic joining her instead.

"So, does his dick shrink too?" she asked as he took his seat beside her near the front of the bus. He glanced around cautiously, but no one else heard the comment. Even so, he only replied to it with an unimpressed eyebrow-raised expression. She snorted, "Just checking~ I'm proud of you! Don't know how I'd last…"

"Good food helps!" Mic rolled his shoulders, moving the directional speaker on his neck so it sat more comfortably, and he watched the students to ensure they weren't doing anything unreasonable.

She snorted and glanced at the students as well, but they were a good bunch, so they didn't have much to worry about. "Won't tell you how to live your life."

"Starting now?" he said with a grin, and she rolled her eyes, but was smiling as well. "All-Might sends his apologies, yo. Just can't control himself."

"The kids'll bounce back," she said with a shrug, "and at least I get to spend some time with my best bud."

"Thirteen?"

She smacked him lightly on the arm and the duo laughed. Hizashi felt his body relax a little. Even so, he couldn't shake off a sense of foreboding, as if something was going to happen today. Perhaps he should've stayed at school: the destroyed gate could've been the first step in some sort of attack…

He knew firsthand how flimsy Hero HQ could be, and those flaws permeated UA too. It had taken Power Loader _years _to forgive him for his secret villainy, and even now their friendship was rocky, although it had been improving in recent times thanks to a new student who'd had an unbridled interest in support gear: Mei Hatsume. Even though Mic didn't work support anymore, she always poked him about ideas and designs, and he didn't mind helping her from time to time.

He glanced around the bus again and found himself genuinely smiling at the twenty-one students. Yes, he overworked himself and he knew he did, but he enjoyed being their teacher all the same. This was the life Shouta had sacrificed himself for, and although he knew the man would have a lot to say on the way he lived it, he'd be proud of him nevertheless. Present Mic was a hero and a teacher and he was okay.

His gaze focused on Midoriya, a young man with green hair, and his smile widened even more. All-Might's successor… He was a huge fan as well, and always asked him questions about his relationship with the Symbol of Peace. The kid had a bright future ahead, although it'd be drenched in turmoil.

Eventually the bus reached the Unexpected Simulation Joint. Here the students would test out their Quirks in faux natural disaster settings. After they pulled up, the class was diligently led off the bus by the representative: Iida Tenya. He was a meticulous student who tackled the job head-on, and just looking at him reminded the blond of his older brother Tensei. Ingenium had a lot to be proud of…

Even so, there was one student he was most looking forward to seeing today, one who was only in the class due to Present Mic's adamant protests. They'd had to overload the class and add an extra desk to the room, but the kid had reminded him too much of himself, and Nezu had agreed after some careful consideration.

Midnight was already off the bus while Mic was still on, and the final student to file off was the one he was secretly rooting for. His hair was wild and tall and messy and purple, while his eyes were an equal shade of violet. He avoided making eye contact with Present Mic though; he knew the Voice Hero was the only reason he'd been accepted into the Hero Course. Surely he was shy, and afraid of letting him down, but Hizashi knew he could succeed. He had complete faith in Hitoshi Shinsou.

**His Quirk is your biggest weakness**, **apart from mine, **said a voice he already knew was imaginary. Mic turned his head to see Imaginary-Shouta sitting on the back seat of the bus, his arms folded across his chest. **You love talking too much.**

Right, Shinsou's Quirk was Brainwashing: he could control any person who answered him. It _was _one of Mic's weaknesses, but…

The kid wanted to become a hero, and yet the school had planned to put him in the General Course.

If Hizashi and Shouta had become villains with their average Quirks, then someone with a 'villainous' Quirk like Shinsou was an easy target. Present Mic had long since vowed to protect his students from groups like SYN. The kids would never go through what he had.

_Not today, Sho, _he thought back as he closed his eyes. _Today my attention needs to be on my students, so-_

"Sir?" He opened his eyes to see Tenya's face looking in at him from outside the bus, his expression more serious than concerned. "Everyone has left the bus in an orderly manner!"

Present Mic didn't need to face the back of the bus to know the illusion was gone, and he hopped down the steps to find Midnight already leading the students ahead. So much for teamwork…

"_[Thank you]_, Iida," he encouraged with a grin, "but feel free to _[chill]_! You're gonna need your energy for what lies ahead, _[listener]_!"

The Space Hero 'Thirteen' was already greeting the students inside, so Mic and Iida had to hurry to catch up. Thankfully they didn't miss much as everyone was too busy gawking at the facility with its various rescue zones, although now they were all inside Thirteen took it as his cue to continue. "A shipwreck, a landslide, a fire, a windstorm, etc! I created this training facility to help you deal with different types of disasters! I call it the Unexpected Simulation Joint, but you can call it the USJ!"

Thirteen took the time to talk about Quirks and their responsibilities, but Mic was distracted by the imaginary voice.

**Don't you think the students would've preferred All-Might being here? **Shouta stood beside him again, casually scratching the back of his neck in the way the real one always had. **You shouldn't support his recklessness. It's irresponsible and you know it.**

_I trust Toshinori's judgement, _he thought back as he lightly tapped his foot. _And I'm sure they'd rather me here than only Thirteen and Midnight. Thought I told you not to bother me today. I_ will _tell my psychologist 'bout you distract me._

**You won't, because this is the closest you'll ever come to talking to me ever again.**

Present Mic's stomach dropped, but not because of the imagined words: his stomach dropped as all the overhead lights sparked with electricity, flickered and died. Thanks to the windowed-globe of the structure, the sun kept everything inside brightly lit, but even the fountain at the centre of the area fizzled and spurted and-

Dark mist swirled and billowed before it. A pair of familiar yellow eyes appeared in the growing cloud, and a pale hand stretched out, but… Someone was _attached _to the limb this time…

His usual hallucination, he tried to tell himself, but something was off: _everyone _was gasping in shock. "Stay as a group!" Midnight hurriedly informed her class as she pulled the whip from her belt, the cuffs around her wrists clinking noisily. "Mic, with me! Thirteen! Protect the students!"

The students were clearly confused, and so was Mic, but when Midoriya curiously stepped forward, his sense of urgency kicked in. Hizashi cut him off and held out a hand, his mouth pulled into a scowl. "Stay back, _[listeners]._"

This wasn't a hallucination?

This wasn't a hallucination.

From the cloud of mist emerged villain after villain, and at the centre was one covered with disembodied hands. Even so, what really had his focus was the mist itself because…

It was _Kurogiri!_

Hizashi bit his lip. All For One must've been behind this then, but… He scanned the faces of the villains. The only Shouta he saw was the fake beside him.

No, he had to focus on who _was_ there rather than who wasn't. Kurogiri _was_ there and he was teleporting waves of villains inside the USJ building! The man with the hands across his body stood out, until a hulking figure emerged beside him, with a bird-face and an exposed brain, and more muscles than… well, All-Might… Even so, the way the hand-man signalled at the bird to stop confirmed his suspicions: he was the co-ordinator.

"This is a real villain attack!" Midnight warned them. "Stay on guard! This is _not_ part of the trip!"

Present Mic stood beside her. Together they were a barrier. Together they were a formidable duo. Together they would protect their students from harm.

"So, you were the ones who broke down our front door!" the Voice Hero called out, not needing to use his Quirk at this stage as his speaker amplified him anyway. "You sent the media in to hide ya tracks!"

**Not like you didn't enjoy that part**, countered Imaginary-Shouta, but he went ignored.

The students were chattering, trying to figure out the reason why the villains were there, but right now that wasn't important. They _were_ _there _and it was up to the adults to take charge. "Kaminari," Present Mic said, "try to send a message out, yo. Thirteen, you've gotta get the kiddies outta here. Midnight and I'll give 'em a show and slow 'em down."

Nemuri nodded once. The villains were approaching, but thankfully they hadn't reached the base of the stairwell yet.

"What're you gonna do?" asked Midoriya, his voice quivering with fear. "There're too many of them! You're both emitter Quirks and neither of you are short-ranged fighters! Even together you can't take them all on since your Quirks don't work well together! Present Mic's sound waves disperse your pheromones, and your pheromones would put him to sleep if he inhaled them! You're not strong enough!"

Present Mic snorted. He knew it was well-intentioned, but he really _hated_ to be told things like that… "You don't hafta hold your breath for us, _[listener]: _I can hold mine all by myself."

Midnight and Present Mic would protect their students, no matter the cost.


	37. On The Floor

Chapter Thirty-Seven

_On the Floor_

_"__Lost and insecure,_

_You found me, you found me_

_Lying on the floor,  
Surrounded, surrounded.  
Why'd you have to wait?  
Where were you? Where were you?  
Just a little late.  
You found me, you found me."  
_\- You Found Me (The Fray)

"What're you gonna do?" asked Midoriya, his voice quivering with fear. "There're too many of them! You're both emitter Quirks and neither of you are short-ranged fighters! Even together you can't take them all on since your Quirks don't work well together! Present Mic's sound waves disperse your pheromones, and your pheromones would put him to sleep if he inhaled them! You're not strong enough!"

Present Mic snorted. He knew it was well-intentioned, but he really _hated_ to be told things like that… "You don't hafta hold your breath for us, _[listener]: _I can hold mine all by myself."

Midnight nodded. "I admire your passion, Midoriya, but you don't need to worry about us."

Several villains reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up at the awaiting heroes. "Lookie! No All-Might, but we managed to scoop up his lil' lovebird! This'll be a cinch! Maybe if we break his limbs, the big man'll come runnin'!"

"I heard he was once a villain, used a guitar to fight, but when he became a hero they took it off him!"

The third thug laughed. "Really clipped his wings! He'll be a cakewalk!"

Mic tsked and inhaled as deeply as his lungs could go, before belting out a devastating yell. **_"YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"_**

The villains were forced to cover their ears, and several even collapsed to the ground. However, he noticed a flicker of movement around Kurogiri and…

A misty portal appeared in front of the hand-man. Mic's sound waves rocked inside and-

The blond sensed a cold chill to his right and instantly spun on his heel, in time to see more mist. He yelled again before he could even think and managed to counter the sound waves Kurogiri had been attempting to redirect at his students.

The waves cancelled each other out, but the thought of accidentally endangering his class horrified him. Damn, they'd have to swap tactics.

Midnight realised as well. "Come on, Mic: let's go in."

He nodded and together they hurried down the large stairwell, jumping several steps at a time as they brought the fight to the villains.

Despite Midoriya's fear, they were a duo to be feared.

"Attack Plan F," Mic told Midnight, their grins practically identical as they paced down the stairs in perfect sync.

"Kinky," she purred as she licked her whip, "this is really gonna get me excited!"

He almost wanted to tell her to avoid attacking Kurogiri, but he knew it would've been stupid to say so: the mist man had almost hurt his students. Even if they'd once been friends, those days were behind them. They were on opposite sides of this field, whether they wanted to be or not.

They reached the bottom of the stairs at last. Villains were slowly pulling themselves up as they recovered from Mic's earlier attack, but it wouldn't be for long. From his belt, the Voice Hero pulled a smoke bomb and inhaled. As soon as his lungs were filled to maximum capacity, he tapped his foot to give Midnight one final warning and flung the ball to the ground.

A billow of smoke consumed the scene, hiding the heroes and villains alike.

"Where'd they go?" thugs called from inside the fog, trying to find each other. Several started to cough as they inhaled the smoke, and those who were inhaling copious mouthfuls of air grew unexpectedly lightheaded. "P-Poison?" Several collapsed to the floor, instantly asleep, while others tried to cover their mouths with their hands or with cloth.

"This is Somnambulist!" one cried out, informing the disjointed group. "You breathe it in, you'll fall asl-"

Before the villain could finish the thought, a long whip wrapped around their arm and pulled them off balance. They flew to the side, but a fellow villain managed to catch them. Before they could get a look at the figure to thank them, something pressed against their chest and-

Electricity coursed through their body. It was certainly painful, but didn't last long as their consciousness fled. They dropped like a fly.

Present Mic flexed his fingers as he set the right glove to charge and reactivated the left. Taser Gloves: they might've taken his guitar, but he never left the house without these babies. Midnight continued to knock out the most unsuspecting villains with her Quirk while she used her whip to redirect the remainders towards Mic for him to deal with.

Little did Midoriya know, long before they'd ever been Present Mic and Midnight, the duo had trained together. Training against her had always been like fighting an Erasure Quirk, since he couldn't breathe around either Quirk, so despite their weaknesses, they were a great combo.

The cloud eventually dispersed, and Midnight took that as her cue to cancel her Quirk so Mic could breathe. He inhaled steadily as they glanced around, finding the area strewn with unconscious thugs. Those who remained cried out in fear at the sight of their many fallen comrades, but Mic's attention was focused on the 'leader'.

Kurogiri was _gone_. A quick glance back confirmed he was now by the entranceway, blocking Thirteen and his students from escaping. He bit his lip, but there wasn't anything he could do about that right now. He had no way of currently stopping Kurogiri, but Mic trusted Thirteen and he trusted his students. He and Midnight had to take down the leader.

The man with disembodied hands across his body was closer now, but had been out of range of their combination attack. The freak with the exposed brain was the same.

"Annoying," murmured the pale villain as he scratched at his neck with three fingers. "The worst thing about pros is when they live up to their hype… Guess the lovebird has some fangs after all."

Present Mic grinned at him. "Welcome to the show, _[listeners]! _Were ya after an exclusive with yours truly? I ain't signing autographs today, but maybe I'll make an **_EXCEPTION!_**" The word flew at the masked villain, radiating through the air along his soundwaves, but the bird-brain got in the way.

The soundwaves hit, but the bird only skidded back an inch.

What Quirk could that be? An absorption Quirk mixed with a mutation Quirk?

A movement caught the corner of his eye. The young villain had dashed out from behind the bird-brain and was now running at Midnight with his hands outstretched.

Mic moved on pure instinct. His body rammed into Midnight's to knock her out the way. The villain grabbed his right elbow and squeezed and … did nothing. "I know all about you," whispered the hand-man, his voice dripping with both irritation and amusement. "All-Might's stupid little toy. I'm not _supposed_ to hurt you…" Present Mic gasped in pain. Where the villain's hand held him, both his jacket and elbow pad disintegrated, followed by…

Mic lunged at him with his left taser-glove, but the villain leapt away. The blond's right arm dropped to his side, hanging uselessly. His elbow joint had been destroyed by the man's touch.

A Disintegration Quirk? Fuck, that was dangerous.

"But neither of us is really good at following the rules~!" finished the villain with a wicked grin.

"Mic!" Midnight called out, but she was distracted when several of the remaining villains lunged at her. She fought them off with ease, but the number of them gave her some trouble. There wasn't enough notice for her to use her Quirk so she fought without it: after all, if Mic was accidentally knocked out, they'd be in big trouble.

Mic took a step in her direction, planning to help, but he was stopped by the hand-villain. "You should've stayed on our side, Present Mic. My Master seems to have a soft spot for you… and it really _pisses me off."_

His _Master. _So, this man _was _connected to All For One!

Hizashi Yamada hesitated. "Where's Shouta?" he growled, his voice almost breaking. His right arm hurt like a bitch, but he'd had a lot worse. He waited for an answer with bated breath, despite Midnight's nearby fight. Hizashi needed an answer, even if it was an answer he didn't want to hear.

Nothing else existed.

The villain scratched at his neck again, humming a distasteful sound. "Don't know who you're talking 'bout; not that I care. You see, my Master might have a soft spot for you … but I'm not my Master~"

Mic heard something behind him. When he turned to face the attacker, his stomach dropped. It was the giant bird-brain villain. When had he moved? How had he been so-

He grabbed Hizashi's head and _squeezed._

His glasses snapped first, the glass cutting his cheeks as it was crushed beneath the all-encompassing grip. His headphones broke too. They cracked and hit the floor, and one of his hearing-aids slipped out as well. He _did_ notice that change: there was an odd moment of clarity that came with it.

Oh, he could only hear in one ear now.

Then his entire body was falling… No, he wasn't _falling_: he was being _forced down_.

He slammed into the floor. Warmth seeped around him, and the feeling of clarity had yet to pass.

Blood. Probably his.

**Wow, you're as weak as ever, **said the voice of imaginary Shouta. He couldn't see him, but he could hear it clearly, despite his missing hearing-aid.

Hizashi's face was raised from the puddle and he gasped desperately for oxygen until-

The concrete hit him again. No, _he'd _hit the _concrete again._

He only realised the hand had still been holding him when it decided to let go, although another hand now rested on his left shoulder.

It was _that _sensation that sent a pulse of complete fear through him. It wasn't 'clarity': it was shock. He barely noticed the other giant hand tugging at his useless right arm. Blood filled his nostrils.

"What do you think of him, Present Mic?" cooed the hand-villain. "He's the bio-engineered Anti-Symbol of Peace … but you can call him Nomu."

The _Anti-Symbol of Peace? _Of course: All-Might was their target.

His arm was slowly twisted by the gigantic hand. When Hizashi cried out, he accidentally gasped with his Quirk. He hadn't done something like that since he'd been young, but the pain was horrific. He felt the gradual snap of his bones rather than heard them, and his voice wavered.

His Directional Speaker must've been busted too, but he couldn't gauge _how _busted. If he used his voice recklessly, then-

"Mic!" Midnight was running for him. His stomach twisted. No, she had to escape! He heard the crack of the whip as it landed against Nomu's thick frame, but it did _nothing _to hurt him_. _The hand released his broken arm.

He barely heard the impact as Nomu's fist collided with Midnight, but he did hear the hand-villain's sadistic _laugh. _Hizashi tried to look around, but he could barely move his head with the hand pinning his shoulder. "So sad," cooed the villain, "but we'll finish her later. You might be annoying to others, but both you heroes have _useless_ Quirks when up against true power! What does my Master even like about you anyway…? It's so _wrong_..._"_

He was prepared to scream and shred his own vocal cords if it would even have a slight possibility of shutting up the villain. Hizashi inhaled, but Nomu reacted first.

Mic's left arm was instantly crushed beneath the monster's foot, and the scream came out in a strangulated cry. Nomu absorbed the soundwaves before they reached the hand-villain.

**Pathetic, **said Shouta's voice, and Hizashi couldn't help but whimper. A long time ago, even this pain would've been nothing to him. He'd been trained by _Giran. _He'd had limbs broken and removed and replaced to train up his pain threshold, but now…

It had all been for nothing.

This creature was as strong as All-Might, and there was nothing Hizashi Yamada could do to stop it. He'd die here without ever saving his Shouta.

The hand grabbed the back of his head and lifted it up again. He felt metal slide against his neck, as well as a wave of warmth. His Directional Speaker must've been more damaged than he'd thought. Even so, he didn't dwell on the pain.

The hand slammed his face back into the pavement. His vision went spotty as he struggled to stay awake. The skin on his right cheek split. Maybe a bit of glass was imbedded there.

Escape was impossible.

"Tomura Shigaraki." The familiar voice cut through the haze: Kurogiri was back. What'd happened? Had he killed off his students? Had Hizashi failed? "What have you done?"

Shigaraki snorted. "I've left him alive for now. He got in my way. Did you stop them?" There was a pause, and Hizashi must've lost consciousness for a moment, for when he listened again, the hand-villain was cursing at Kurogiri over something. Even so, the man hesitated, and finally said, "Let's go home…"

Was this it then? They were going to leave and Hizashi would lose Kurogiri again and he would be known for his failure…?

"Oh," continued Shigaraki, "before we leave… Let's make sure the Symbol of Peace is _broken! _Let's wreck his pride!"

Hizashi managed to force his head up just enough to see them: Midoriya, Tsuyu and Mineta. _What? _What were the students doing _here? _He'd told them to escape!

"Let's make this _hurt!"_

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The hand-villain rushed towards them and held out a hand.

He was going to kill his students.

Hizashi tried to inhale, but all he tasted was blood. Barely any oxygen reached his lungs.

**Things don't change, **said that voice of despair. Present Mic's eyes grew glassy as blood ran down his face alongside angry tears. **Just like always, Hizashi… You should've been-**

He heard something to his left, although the sound was indistinct with his missing hearing-aid. Shigaraki stopped, his hand mere inches from Tsuyu's face. His body trembled with what could've been anything between rage and disgust.

"You're so freakin' _annoying," _growled the hand-villain as he glanced back with utter resentment, but his gaze wasn't aimed at Present Mic. "Kurogiri … Whose side are you on?"

"Master's orders," said the mist-villain, "in case you hurt _him."_

Then he heard another voice. It was familiar, and for a moment he thought it might've been imagined, as it usually was, but it sounded weird. He could only hear it through one ear.

It was impossible to block out an imagined sound…

But a real one…

_"__Off-Limits_," said the voice to his left.

It _was _such a faint voice, but it was _real _and Hizashi painfully turned his head to look up at his hero.

Standing beside him was a man. He wore all black, and even the razor-sharp spikes on the capture weapon were black, but the mask hadn't changed, although red light only poured out the left lens. The right remained dim.

Hizashi's breath caught in his throat, but not because of any Quirk.

Standing beside him was the lover he'd lost eight long years ago.

Standing beside him was Shouta Aizawa.


	38. Anywhere

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Anywhere

"Say something, I'm giving up on you,  
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you;  
Anywhere I would've followed you.  
Say something, I'm giving up on you."

\- Say Something (A Great Big World) 

Eraserhead allowed the events to unfold as he kept his Erasure focused on Shigaraki. After all, the man had hurt Hizashi Yamada, and that was the one thing he didn't allow.

One of the kids used the opportunity to their advantage as they charged up a fist with super strength and launched it at Shigaraki. Nomu abandoned Present Mic and leapt in the way, completely absorbing the impact of the attack.

Eraser's head was hurting - more so than usual - but he lost interest in Shigaraki and turned his attention to Present Mic. It was a sorry sight. Hot blood pooled around him, both his arms were completely mangled, his face was badly cut up, and-

He was looking up at him with those emerald eyes. Right, they _were _green. He also noticed the horrified way he clenched his teeth together, how his lips trembled. Eraser had to get him away from here…

At that moment, the doors opened. All-Might entered.

Eraserhead turned his attention to him, but felt nothing when he looked at the man, although his constant headache worsened. It didn't matter anyway, since Eraserhead wasn't involved with the League of Villains or Shigaraki: he was solely there for Present Mic and that's where his attention refocused.

Eraser crouched beside the wounded hero to check the extent of the damage in closer detail. His arms were broken beyond belief, and metal from the neck speaker was cracked and splintered in his throat. It'd missed the artery there, but if Nomu had slammed his head down several more times, it might've been deadly.

He tried to examine the bleeding hero further, but he was interrupted by the way the man's entire body shuddered and froze. Oh, his Erasure Quirk was bad on this man. The villain turned his gaze away to look elsewhere.

He went to check the pipe that'd been impaled through Hizashi's leg and-

Nothing. His palm met no pipe: in fact there was no wound there at all…

Strange, he'd sworn there'd been a pipe... His head throbbed, but he didn't dwell on it.

Eraser pulled the blond hero onto his back, ensuring he wasn't cut on his razor capture weapon while also making sure the metal in his neck didn't move around. He was lighter than he looked, but the feeling of his weight against him made his constant headache _ease … _if only slightly.

All-Might didn't interrupt him. Kurogiri was busy dealing with him, and Father would get upset if Eraser interrupted now the Symbol of Peace was here. So, the next best option was the entrance of the building where the kids gathered. He'd take Hizashi to them and when help arrived they'd take the hero to be healed.

With the finish line decided, Eraserhead moved. He didn't walk fast, lest he jostle the wounded hero too much, but he didn't walk slowly either. The strangest thing was the man as he pressed his face against Eraser's hair and repeated the same curious word over and over: _"[Show, show, show,]" _followed by, _"[show ta...]"_

He didn't know what he meant, but the sound of his voice eased the pain further, so he didn't make him stop. Then…

_Come on, Zashi, let's end this together._

He would've glanced around had he been so sure no one was nearby. The ground was littered with unconscious thugs, but something told him the voice hadn't belonged to them. Right, the voice had been familiar and…

_Guess I didn't have as much blood as I thought…_

For a moment, they were in a tunnel with a bright light just ahead, and he could almost hear the cries of excited spectators, but the vision vanished as quickly as it'd come.

His pace never slowed or sped up, despite the fighting he heard behind him. Just when he thought the voice was gone however, it came again, just as familiar, although it was now distinctly _older._

_The building exploded; was that your doing?_

This time he didn't hear spectators, nor did he see a light at the end of a tunnel. There was darkness, but it didn't feel like normal darkness. It was … colder.

_Right, I get it. Your hearing-aids still working, I take it?_

Oh, Hizashi Yamada had hearing-aids. He'd forgotten that when...

… _Forgotten. _These weren't visions at all: they were-

"Shouta," whispered the man on his back. Hizashi's tears rolled down his neck, the heat akin to dripping blood. "You're home…"

-o-

Hizashi was crying. The tears themselves were derived from an amalgamation of emotions, but the most influential were clear: relief, hope and frustration. He hated to think it, but the last was the biggest perpetrator for the tears.

Shouta was _right there, _carrying him. Mic was on his back, pressed against him, and yet his body was so busted he couldn't do a thing. If his arms hadn't been messed up, he could've knocked Aizawa out with his taser gloves and then he could've been captured. At least his adrenaline was kicking in at last, making the pain more bearable.

"Tried to find you," Hizashi croaked when Aizawa said nothing. "Searched for years with tracker, but… Always out of reach. Thought we'd got you those years ago… But...Gone." The taste of blood tainted his mouth, and there was a sensation of something in his neck. He could potentially knock Aizawa out with a scream, but it would hurt himself in the process, and if he landed badly while something was in his neck... "Knew you weren't dead… Sho… Stay home… I'll protect you."

It was such a stupid thing to say, especially considering the situation. Hizashi had failed as both a hero and as a teacher today. Even now, he was shirking his duty. He should've been trying to help All-Might with what little strength he had - he knew Toshi was already at his limit for the day, so how long could he really last? His students were in danger, and he didn't even know if Nemuri was alive, and yet here he was promising to protect a man - a _villain _\- he'd already failed time and time again.

He waited for some snarky reply, but Shouta said … nothing.

"Please," Hizashi pleaded, "tell me you'll come home… I'm not … gonna give up." The blond started to cough and blood rolled down his lips, but he continued to press on as Aizawa reached the stairs. "Miss you … so much… Shouta… You can come home…"

**Face it, **said the imaginary Aizawa who walked alongside them. **He's gone.**

They started up the steps, and Hizashi's tears ended. "Say something," he pleaded. "Tell me you don't blame me, tell me you're okay, tell me you _want _to come home…"

That there was some small hope his Sho was in there, despite _everything._

Eraserhead reached the top of the stairs. Some of his students were there, along with Thirteen, although he'd been badly injured. His kids turned to face him and horror streaked their faces. At first he thought it was because of how roughed up he was, but he quickly remembered he was being carried by a_ master villain._ Before there was any confrontation between Shouta and his students, however, Eraserhead carefully placed him on the ground.

Finally, the villain said something. It was only one word, but it was _Shouta's voice _and that alone brought more tears to Present Mic's eyes.

"Survive."

Hizashi looked to him. Eraserhead was covering his left lens with his arm, which almost made him sob again as his mind realised what he hadn't before: the man couldn't turn off his Erasure Quirk.

What had All For One _done _to him?

The villain's other hand reached down and his fingers brushed some bloodied fringe from Hizashi's face. Rough skin ran over his bruising cheek, and he noticeably hesitated. A shock ran through them, like electricity, as it always had when they touched. He wished with everything he had that the spark was as strong as a taser, would make Eraser give up and return to him, but it was a stupid thought. Even so, the blond's heart practically constricted in his chest.

_Sho wasn't gone._

Hizashi lunged his face forward. He felt the metal in his neck drive deeper, but he didn't care about that. His teeth took hold of Eraserhead's hand and he clamped on tight.

He wouldn't let him go. He wouldn't let them take him away again.

They could break _all _of his limbs if they wanted to, but even that wouldn't stop him.

Blood pooled around his neck, caught between his skin and his speaker. All his wounds were painful, and his head was swimming, but he didn't relent. To his surprise, Eraserhead didn't try to pull his hand away, no matter how hard he bit him.

Even so, what he did was worse.

The villain pulled his arm away from his glowing lens, and Hizashi _couldn't breathe._

"Survive," Eraser repeated.

As his oxygen ran out, he clenched harder on Eraser's hand, but the man never tried to pull away, nor did he make any sign he was in pain. Hizashi tried to tell him to stay, but his words were incomprehensible, even to himself.

Eraserhead watched him aloofly. Just beyond the real one stood the hallucination, his expression as impassive, although he lacked the mask.

**You should've been stronger.**

With no more oxygen in his lungs, Hizashi sank into darkness.

-x-

Light drifted against his closed eyelids. A voice echoed in his mind, and the word it said was simple yet cogent: _Survive._

He opened his eyes. A blank ceiling stared down at him, complete with a round fluorescent lightbulb at its centre. If he listened carefully enough, he thought he could hear its hum, until he realised he wasn't wearing his hearing-aids at all. Great, _more _audible hallucinations…

Hizashi Yamada tried to sit up, but although he could feel his arms, he couldn't move them. He glanced down to find his broken limbs tied in thick bandages, but when he moved his head he also felt them around his face and neck. Memories slowly trickled back to him, and the ache they brought almost made him wish for the sweet obliviousness he'd known only moments before.

**You weren't strong enough, **whispered the voice of imaginary-Shouta. Hizashi couldn't see him, but even without his hearing-aids he could understand the words perfectly. **You weren't strong enough to save Shouta. You weren't strong enough to save Midnight or your students. You weren't even strong enough to save yourself.**

The light turned off and on three times. Hizashi couldn't sit up, but he tried to look around the room. Judging by the amount of tubes, he was in a hospital, and that immediately made his stomach turn as he recalled another time he'd been in this situation…

"I'm okay," Hizashi said, although he felt his voice rather than heard it. His throat was rough, and he wasn't even sure if his words were comprehensible, but it was enough approval for the visitors. His bed vibrated and lifted, so he could sit up without actually moving. Only then did he come face to face with his guests: Nezu and Toshinori.

His fiancé had a box, and he quickly recognised it as a spare pair of his hearing-aids. After a lot of help, they were in, and sound returned to Hizashi's world: _real _sound. Apparently the light above didn't hum after all.

The first thing Hizashi did was tell them, "I'm sorry." His voice _did _sound bad, like faulty recording equipment. "Are they …?" He didn't want to finish asking the question. If any of his students had died while he'd been focused on Shouta, he'd…

"They're safe," Toshi said instantly, his voice sounding tired but together. "The only student hurt was Midoriya, and that was from his Quirk. Midnight and Thirteen are okay as well. She was knocked out by Nomu, but was carried to safety, and Thirteen only had a few wounds on his back… Midnight was well enough to go into school today and talk to the class about the Sports Festival."

Hizashi looked All-Might over. He could spy it, a hint of bandage beneath his shirt. "And you…?"

Toshinori nodded. "I overdid it, but I don't regret it. You were the most injured, Hizashi. You've been out for two days."

The Voice hero turned back to the ceiling. He wanted to cry, but he had no tears left to spill. "If I'd been stronger, you wouldn't've needed to…"

"Hizashi," said the Symbol of Peace, "if you and Midnight hadn't stepped in, there _wouldn't_ be zero casualties. You weren't the only ones fighting: the students fought with everything they had too. You should be proud: not sorry."

"...Sho-... Eraserhead was there…"

"I saw… He carried you to safety and then… I was at my limit. He didn't attack anyone, but he fled with Kurogiri."

"We captured Nomu," chirped Nezu as he crawled onto the bed with a glass of water and a paper straw. "However, we haven't been able to get him to talk. We don't think he's capable, due to the number of Quirks he's been given by All For One."

Hizashi shivered. "Sho… His left eye. Not once did he stop using Erasure with it, not even to blink… Don't know 'bout his other eye…" Nezu held the glass close and he forced himself to sip some water through the straw. He was thirstier than he'd realised.

Toshinori looked away. "He carried you to safety. Even if All For One has changed him, something of Aizawa is there."

Hizashi recalled the dispassionate way the man had watched as he'd run out of oxygen, and a cold tremble shot up his spine. "...Not much…" This one wasn't above suffocating him to 'help' him, and that wasn't a pleasant thought… His one word rang through his mind like a tolling bell: _Survive._

"Needless to say," said Nezu, "the wedding date has been postponed."

Hizashi grimaced. "_[What?] _I'll get my shapeshifter bud to heal me up! This ain't a reason to postpone, yo! Bet I can teach like this, and I've got the Sports Fest coming up!"

Nezu shook his head. "We've done what we've needed to do so far: we have their attention. It's best to assume Eraserhead and All For One are currently in Japan, thanks to your publicity stunt." Hizashi relaxed a little. Nezu was right, as per usual: it had _worked_.

Their fake engagement had drawn out the big fish they'd been hunting for years.

"The public won't second doubt the postponement," Nezu continued, "especially since they'll see how wounded you are at the Sports Festival. Pushing the wedding back a month will give you time to recover, while also allowing enough time to set up our ambush."

Hizashi exhaled. They had a plan, and if Shouta was in Japan then everything was already in motion.

"If something like this happens again," Toshinori said, his piercing eyes remaining turned away, "where you have to choose between Eraser and the students, who would you choose?"

Hizashi turned his gaze to the bedside table. It was covered in flowers and cards. While it was impossible to reach out and pick one up, he was able to look over the fronts: 'GET WELL SOON', 'THANK YOU' and 'BEST TEACHER EVER'. His chest fluttered just thinking of them, and he knew if push came to shove, he'd protect them again.

Hizashi was a teacher. He'd lost a lot to get to this moment. It wasn't the first time he'd sat broken and bandaged in a hospital bed, but now he was _surrounded _by people who truly cared for him - who _believed _in him.

Sho was out there, and Hizashi would save him, but not because of any survivor's guilt, and not because he loved the lost man.

He would save Shouta because Present Mic- … No, because _Hizashi Yamada _was a **_hero._**

"Won't need to choose," he said firmly. "...Y'know, I keep sayin' I haven't failed '_yet'_._" _He grinned at Nezu, and All-Might finally turned to him, his expression confused. "But I _have _failed. I've failed too many times to count, yo. I thought it was 'cause I wasn't strong enough, but… Right now, I'm the strongest I've ever been."

His eyes glanced back to the flowers and the cards and everything clicked.

"You shoulda seen Nems and I. _[We really kicked butt!] _Things only went south when I got distracted… Alone, I couldn't protect the kids, but that's fine: I ain't alone." His grin was so wide it made his wounded face ache, but he didn't care about that. "I've failed Sho too many times to count… but I'm not gonna fail him _again_. In school, Recovery Girl said I 'relied' on others… Kan got me across the mines, yes, but she forgot to mention that he wouldn't've won without my help either. I ain't weak, and I ain't stupid."

"Hizashi…"

_"_I'm strongest when I'm working with others, and that ain't a bad thing. We can save Sho- No, we _will. _All of us. _We _will save Shouta _together!"_


	39. The Most Familiar Sound

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Most Familiar Sound

_"__Oh, your voice, it was the most familiar sound,_

_But it sounds so dangerous to me now."_

\- I Have Questions (Camilla Cabello)

He was only in hospital for another day, and most of it was spent giving his own side of the story to the authorities. Apparently, there were a few rumours floating about suggesting Present Mic was somehow involved in the villain attack. He laughed bitterly when he heard that: he'd been smeared into the dirt and yet some idiots were always caught on his past. He'd be lying if he said he didn't care, but he was used to it.

Everyone who mattered knew the truth.

Thankfully his legs hadn't been injured so he was up and about quickly, but his face and neck were covered in bandages, and his arms were tied while the bones repaired. That wouldn't've been so bad, except his final visitor was…

"I see you've got energy to spare," said a weathered voice he recognised instantly. If he'd been resting, he would've pretended to be asleep, but he'd been halfway through fighting a bowl of soup with a flimsy paper straw. He stared at her dumbly, the cylinder frayed beneath his teeth, but he quickly spat it out in a futile attempt to look dignified.

"Course I do," Hizashi said with a forced grin, "you're not the one healing me."

Recovery Girl (unfortunately) entered the room and checked over the chart at the foot of his hospital bed. "You'll have some scars, but you're in good hands here. You're lucky the metal in your throat didn't cut more centrally."

He snorted. "Come on, yo! Me? Lucky? Ain't no such thing. Built my speaker myself; _I _designed it to crush outwards rather than inwards. _[Give me the credit; not luck.]"_

She looked at him carefully with her shrew eyes, and something seemed to settle about her. "I was the bearer of bad news last time we spoke, but it seems you haven't changed much after all this time."

Hizashi grinned ironically. "Can't really blame a guy. You did kinda put a pin in my dreams… Kicked a poor kid when he was already down…"

Recovery Girl hummed. "You're a pro-hero, Present Mic; you proved us all wrong. If you'd stayed working in Support, you wouldn't be beaten in this room right now, but if you hadn't become a hero then there's no telling what might've happened to those students. You don't need to aim your animosity at me: you won."

He honestly didn't know how to respond to that, but for once he wasn't given the chance.

"I know it might be hard for you, but you need to tell me about Aizawa. What condition was he in?"

Hizashi leaned back in the hospital bed and closed his eyes. He'd played back the memories of the USJ constantly since the attack, but he now tried to detach himself from the emotion each moment had welled and focused solely on what he had seen, as opposed to what he'd noticed.

"He's physically stronger," he confirmed, his voice lacking his typical flare. "Skin was totally covered, but his hair was longer and messy… Erasure was constantly active in his left eye, but only his fringe floated - usually all his hair floated when he used it. The right eye… I never saw the lens light up, so…" What'd happened to his right eye? Had… Had All For One-...

"We can't rule out that he might've lost an eye," she said, her voice softer. "A constantly active Erasure… The effects of that would certainly be grievous on Aizawa."

Hizashi swallowed. He'd been avoiding thinking about it, but… He tried to imagine what it would be like if he constantly used his own Voice Quirk and the inevitable toll it would have on his body. "I bit him on the hand, but he never reacted, no matter how hard I bit. He had the capture weapon I made for him, but it'd been updated: it had spikes lining the material… Dunno if it functions the same, but it originally required manoeuvring. Either his gloves are thick enough to stop the spikes from cutting his hands, or…"

"All For One isn't the type to take away the ability to feel pain," she said, voicing his thoughts. "Back in the day, they used to hire young children to clean the insides of chimneys. To make it easier to remove the soot, the people would have the fire burning only moments before the chimney sweep arrived. Children would have to clean the inside while it was hot, and their hands became so burned they unintentionally stopped feeling pain in their palms…"

Hizashi shivered and curled his lip. "...Sho…"

"I read your report. Did he say anything else?"

He shook his head and glanced out the window. The sky was so blue outside, and yet he was stuck in here, talking of bitter things that made his stomach twist. Could Shouta see this sky? "Only 'Survive'. Been thinking it over, and… I think I know why he said it." Hizashi closed his fists tightly, a wave of grief washing through him. "Must've been his motto… I don't know what that monster put him through, but it must've been hell. How many times did he order himself to 'survive'...?" His emotional separation finally caved, and he thought he was going to be sick.

Recovery Girl easily noticed the shift. "You've _both _suffered at the hands of All For One."

"What I've gone through isn't even comparable to-" She pulled a wooden spoon from inside her sleeve pocket and whacked him over the head. Hizashi almost fell out of bed. "Hey! I'm already in hospital, yo!"

"You've _both _suffered!" she repeated. "Don't compare your own suffering with Aizawa's. Just because someone has hurt differently to you, doesn't make your own pain any less. I know all about your struggle, and how hard you worked to become a hero. I know you drive yourself into the ground, and I know you aren't coping in a healthy way. Exacerbating your own suffering won't make you 'repent', because you have nothing to repent for, and Aizawa would agree."

Hizashi stared at her in surprise. He went to justify something, but she interrupted.

"If your student was going through the same thing, what would you tell them?"

_That _silenced him. He turned back to the window, where he could sometimes make out his reflection in the glass. So many bandages… So many wounds. "Think I need to change my medication," he said instead, his voice oddly quiet. "I've been … hallucinating lately…"

When Recovery Girl spoke again, her voice was soft. "I'm sorry, Yamada, for everything we put you both through. For what it's worth, I believe you've become a great hero, and a great teacher. When you save Aizawa, I promise to do everything I can to make things right."

Hizashi didn't face her, but his shoulders slumped. He was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. "You able to answer that for me? My arms are a little tied up!" She nodded and pressed the button, before leaving him alone to take the call. The voice bluetoothed directly to his hearing-aids, so he had no trouble with hearing it. "_[Hey, hey, hey,] _how can I help you?"

At first there was silence, but then…

_"'__Wisely and slow,'" _breathed a rough voice he hadn't heard in far too long,_ "'they stumble that run fast.'"_

-x-

There was a lot of risk involved in what he was going to do, but if he refused then he might regret it forever.

The alleyway was dark and Hizashi's arms were still bandaged tightly, so he'd be practically useless in a fight. Even so, he wasn't stupid enough to go alone. He'd ensured a capable hero was nearby, keeping a constant watch on him, although they wouldn't interfere unless Hizashi gave the appropriate signal.

The first tell-tale sign of his contact was the scent of cigarette smoke, closely followed by the even pace of approaching footsteps. "'Wisely and slow," they said gruffly, "they stumble that run fast.'"

Hizashi stood as tall as he could, and returned the quote with his own learned phrase: "'These violent delights have violent ends.'"

Giran stepped into the one spot of light that'd managed to fight its way into the alley. "Hey kid." The information broker grinned, revealing his stained teeth, although one of his incisors was noticeably missing. "Let's walk," he said as he waved his right wrist, "Boss man will get curious if I stay in one place for too long."

A tracker. That made sense…

Hizashi wanted to race forward and embrace him, despite his bandaged arms, but he settled for glancing him over instead. Giran looked … okay. Besides the missing tooth and some additional wrinkles, he appeared altogether the same as when he'd sacrificed himself at the bar. With this moment, Hizashi had expected to feel a rush of emotions, but after the landslide that'd come with fighting Kurogiri and failing Shouta, he felt … relieved. Giran was _fine _and he sounded _normal._

The blond opened his mouth, but Giran cut him off. "If I hear the word 'sorry' from ya, even once, then I'm ending this. The only thing you should be sorry for is for not answering your damn phone. And I know you've got a hero tailing us, by the way, and I don't blame ya - means I trained ya well - but I ain't the one ya wanna capture."

Giran didn't stop walking, and Hizashi didn't hesitate to follow. "You look well," he managed to say, voice feeling oddly distant. There was so much he wanted to say, but there was definitely a conflict of interests here. How much could he trust Giran, considering everything? As a hero, he _should _take him in straight away and…

The broker snorted. "Eight years is a long time, kiddo. I've had time to go from looking like shit to looking well again, although I suppose I'm exaggerating. Let's skip the small stuff. You don't wanna talk 'bout just lil ol' me."

"Sho and Kurogiri were at the USJ," he said firmly, "but they… What's happened to them?"

"Kuro? Nothin'. Eraser? Too much." His voice was gruff as he took the cigarette from the gap in his teeth. "Kurogiri and I 'ave been fine and dandy, considering everythin'. Boss man never hurts _us_, but only 'cause he has more… persuasive methods. Anytime we messed up - said the wrong thing, refused to do somethin', showed even a hint of rebellion - then Eraser got the punishment. Won't go into any details, but… Well, wasn't pretty."

They continued through several more alleyways, always keeping to a route that would lead to another alley rather than an open street. Hizashi felt sick, but he was already emotionally separating himself from the conversation. "Whose side are you on?"

Giran rolled his shoulders. "My side, as always. Y'know, Kurogiri and I are cut out for this line of work. Been doin' it so long we don't know any different. I'm glad you got out, kid. Was wrong to 've ever recruited ya. It was me, by the way - I was the one who saw you lose at the festival an' figured you'd be a great asset. Don't mean much anymore, but I've always wanted to tell ya."

Honestly, the confirmation meant nothing to him. It was the tone in which he talked that sent alarms ringing. Hizashi stared at him oddly. "We won't be talkin' again after this, will we, _[dear listener]?" _

"Na - this is already risky enough. Really, you're the enemy now, and I couldn't be happier 'bout that. Glad you survived Nomu too. Kuro raved about it for hours." Giran took a long drag from his cigarette, and there was a minor tremble in his shoulders. "I know more than they do, kid, but you know bringin' me in would be pointless. I'd never betray details 'bout my comrades. Really, I'm only talkin' to you now 'cause I wanna favour."

"What makes you so sure I'd follow through?" Hizashi asked with a forced grin. "We're enemies, after all. I could bring you in, and keep you safe, even if you don't plan to sing."

"The only place that _might _be safe from Boss man is Tartarus itself," he said, as if it held some significance. "Besides, you'll only be able to nab one of us three. Whatever you do won't work a second time."

"What's the favour?"

The duo finally stopped as they reached the end of the labyrinth. A busy street awaited ahead of them, although the two were obscured behind a string of old vending machines.

"Capture Eraserhead." He didn't look at Hizashi when he said it, but he took the cigarette from his mouth and stared into the distance. "Kurogiri and I can manage, but… There ain't much Aizawa left to save. Not really sure exactly how much, but whatever is is centred on you. You gotta be careful though, 'cause he's dangerous. You'll have to be willin' to do things you don't wanna to protect him. He'll wanna go back to his 'Father', and even I ain't sure which of you two holds more sway in 'im. Eraser might end up hurtin' you if it'd clear a route to the Boss."

"Can he really be saved?"

Giran snorted, although it was a humourless sound. "Doesn't matter. If I said no, you'd try anyway, and that's what I'm countin' on. As far as I'm concerned, if you get him outta this job, you'll be savin' him. You'll have to be quick with removing the tracker from his wrist; if something's noticed, Boss'll have Kuro teleport Eraser in using the tracker's location. Remove the tracker, ditch it, and hide him someplace safe."

"...All For One won't be happy."

"I'm fine with that," he said with a shrug. "He's trainin' a successor - he ain't the sort to do that unless he really needed to. He's got better things to worry 'bout than one lost pawn."

"...What've they done to his eyes…?"

Giran 'tsked' and dropped the cigarette to the floor, crushing it beneath his heel. The scent was blown away by a sickly breeze. "Don't have time for all the nitty gritty. When you get 'im, make sure his left eye is covered at all times, unless you're sure your location can't be discovered by sight. I'll leave it to you techies to deal with. Oh, and stay away from cameras – even phone cameras."

Hizashi swallowed as his emotional disconnection slipped. "I've missed you."

"Missed you too, kid." Giran turned to him at last, and managed a genuine grin. "Whether you're a villain or a hero, I'm proud of ya, and Kuro is too. So, was that a deal on the favour? No matter what he does or says, you've gotta keep him away."

Present Mic nodded, and turned his attention to the crowded streets beyond the dark alley. "It's a deal. We'll save him, and we'll protect him."

"Then there's nothin' to worry 'bout, kiddo… Take care of yourself, 'kay? I'll secretly be rooting for ya." Hizashi nodded and Giran walked calmly into the crowd, without a single stumble in his step.

The blond watched him go, but had to lean against the wall to keep himself standing. For a moment, he thought he felt eyes watching him, and when he turned he saw red, but… It was only Vlad King, coming to meet him from where he'd been following. "You didn't give the signal," the Blood Hero said, a stark frown on his face.

Hizashi nodded and pulled himself from the wall. "We'll only have one chance to rescue Sho, and we've gotta do it while their guard is down…" Vlad stared into the crowd, but Giran was gone. Present Mic caught his attention by nudging his ankle with his foot. "Don't look so glum, _[dear listener]! _I know you're looking forward to your re-re-match with Sho, but if we take this guy in then he would've been outta our hands again."

"If Hero HQ finds out you just met up with a villain tied to the group that attacked you…"

Mic shook his head. "You can trust me, even if it's for the simple reason that I wouldn't've asked for your help if I was trying to be evil. _[Gimmie some credit]." _He shivered and glanced around again, but no one was there. Were they being watched? "Come on Vlad, let's go. We've got a Sports Festival to prepare for!"


	40. Home

Chapter Forty

Home

"When life takes its own course,

Sometimes we just don't get to choose.

I'd rather be there next to you,

Promise you'll wait for me, wait for me,

Wait 'til I'm home.

All I have is this feeling inside of me,

The only thing I've ever known."

\- Already Home (A Great Big World)

Eraserhead watched the city below, but he was finding it difficult to concentrate on the swarms of ants. No, for he was busy staring at the small star he held in his hand: his Charm.

As he looked at it, he tried to grasp onto a forgotten time, of blond hair and soft touches. He'd imagined a tunnel and a crowd of voices, and…

Shouta.

His name was Shouta?

His head ached and he curled his fingers around the Charm before he slipped it away. Even now, he wished to search out and find that small splash of colour in his world, but…

_Tell me you don't blame me, tell me you're okay, tell me you want to come home…_

...Home? Where was Home?

Eraserhead dropped silently from the building and allowed his barbed scarf to unravel. As he fell, he looped it around a fluorescent sign that jutted out the brickwork like a thorn, and he took hold of the capture weapon as he rappelled down. Although the dagger-like edges pressed tight against his palms, they didn't puncture the gloves, and he'd long since lost feeling in his palms. His shoes crunched on the pavement and he flicked the scarf to unhook it from the sign.

Home.

Shouta had to go-

Eraserhead flinched. He scratched at his wrist, where a faint scar marred his flesh.

No, no, no. Father would be upset. His home was with Father. Father would know…

And yet his feet moved. Although it was day, there were plenty of shadows to slip between, but even then he only got so far. He stopped as soon as his skin crawled. Eraserhead felt at the eyepatch over his left eye, but his mask was in the way of it. Where was he going?

He wanted to get _There_. He _needed _to go _There_. _He _was waiting for him, _He _was waiting for him, _He _was waiting for _him_.

_Survive. Survive. Survive._

He activated his Erasure with his right eye and for a moment he saw four different sights. One was of darkness, one contained his feet, one was of the alleyway he'd been close to passing through, and the other was on the opposite side of the street. A metallic whine made his head ache, but he didn't let it stop him as he pressed onwards, avoiding the gaze of the cameras. Only when he was clear of them did he drop his Erasure, and the whine vanished, although his head felt like it would be split apart if he thought too much.

So he didn't think at all. Eraser let his feet guide him through streets and alleys that were both strange and familiar. Had he been here before? Maybe, a lifetime ago.

Finally, he was at his destination.

A small set of narrow stairs led to a door with a buzzer beside it. He slowly climbed up each mountainous step, and stared at the keypad with curiosity. A number… A number… A 6-digit number.

He keyed it in automatically. His body remembered more than he did. The light turned green.

Green, like _his _eyes. Green, green, green.

He opened the door and entered Home and…

A quiet apartment. Things were strewn about, but more so due to laziness than ransacking. He was supposed to say something as he entered, but the words alluded him, not that it would've mattered anyway.

No one was there.

Eraser moved further inside. It was as if everything had been frozen in time: crusty dishes were piled beside the sink, dust covered the ground, and the air smelled musty with negligence. His feet carried him forwards, each step streaking a soft line along the dusty floor as he moved for the bedroom.

The double bed was unmade. A layer of dust covered the sheets, and moths had eaten a few holes into it, but looking at it brought back something:

_When he woke again, he felt a bit more like himself. Something warm and soft was pressed against his chest, and at first he imagined it was a pillow that'd absorbed his own body heat, but when he pressed more against it, it moved._

_"__Ngh…" whined a familiar voice, and he realised his 'pillow' was a sleepy Hizashi Yamada. His face was pressed against the blond's chest, with the blond's arms wrapped around him, as if he were sheltering Shouta from something unseen._

**Home.**

Eraserhead fell on the unmade bed. A cloud of dust rose with the fall of his body and it made the air difficult to breathe, but he was more surprised by how cold it was. The bed was cold and empty. No one had slept there for years, since…

_I love you, Sho._

_We'll become heroes together, Zashi…_

...Heroes together? Had he once…

Eraser sat up and pulled off his mask, but ensured his eyepatch stayed on. Father didn't need to see this place.

His gaze landed on something rectangular, and it took him a moment to realise it was a television. Typically he would've ignored it, but something inside him thrummed. Today. Today. He'd be on today.

Without thinking more on it, Eraser turned it on and came face to face with blond hair and orange lenses and bandages.

_"__That was QUITE the race!" _said the bubbly voice on the screen. _"Midnight, your kids are CRAZY! 1-B has some big, big shoes to fill, Vlad!"_

Despite all the bandages, Hizashi was grinning and exuberant and the simple sight of him like that lessened the constant pain in Eraser's skull. His shoulders shuddered as he relaxed, almost hypnotised by the sight of the man on the screen.

Then the camera turned. Sitting beside Hizashi was another hero, dressed in red and white, and Eraser recognised him instantly: Vlad King. _"1-A are showy," _he said with a grunt, _"but keep an eye on my students. They haven't shown you what they're truly capable of yet."_

Eraserhead didn't feel much usually. He simply did what Father wanted so he wasn't punished. Everything was done logically and by Father's wishes and Eraser typically felt nothing but the pain in his head, and yet…

The simple sight of Vlad King made him burn with _rage_.

The hero had tried to hurt Hizashi! Hizashi was-

The camera shifted again, this time focusing on a female hero wearing a tight costume: Midnight. _"Our next round will be… Cavalry battle!"_

The rage intensified. She had been there! She had been there! She had tried to hurt his Hizashi too!

The Quirk in his right eye flared.

For a moment, he saw a million windows of the world. Through one was surely Hizashi Yamada, his face paused in surprise… But then Eraser blacked out.

More dust rose from the bedsheets, while what remained was dirtied by blood.

-x-

The phone in his back pocket sparked. Present Mic tried to yelp, but his breath caught in his throat, until… A second later, it passed. His oxygen returned and his phone settled. He was relieved he hadn't ended up yelping, considering his current commentary in the Sports Festival, until he realised they'd flicked off their microphone anyway, so Midnight could announce the next event.

Even so, a commotion swept through the entire audience, and he noticed people pulling out their own phones in confusion.

"Hey hey," he said to Kan, who also pulled out his phone. "What's up?"

Vlad looked his device over, his face locked in a frown. "Not sure… Some interference?"

He waited a few seconds, to see if it would happen again, but it didn't. With nothing more happening, he shrugged his shoulders and turned the microphone back on using a foot pedal he'd had them temporarily install. His body was tightly bandaged, arms still useless, although he could use them like two chopsticks to clumsily hold things between the two casts. Recovery Girl promised to remove them soon, and he couldn't wait.

"Sorry 'bout that, [_listeners], _just a bit of feedback from our system," he lied, hoping to put everyone at ease, considering the recent villain attack. There wouldn't be any problems today: there were too many heroes about. If this _was _something the villains had done, it was just a harmless scare tactic. The Sports Festival continued.

This year's events were the same as his when he'd been a first year, with the obstacle course, cavalry game, and the eventual tournaments, and seeing his students applying their own tactics made him emotional. Even the obstacle course had been similar, except the mountain climb zone had been replaced by ravines. Hizashi tried to imagine how team Hi-Ta-Nem-Sei would've fared against that area and what tactics they would've tried.

Perhaps he would've gone a similar route to Mei Hatsume, who used her support gadgets to easily pass. She was one of the four students he was keeping a close eye on today, while the others were Midoriya, Bakugou, and...

Shinsou had brainwashed other students into carrying him through the obstacle course.

Hizashi grinned at the sight, although it hurt a little. Yes, it was forced teamwork, but it was comforting to see that Shinsou knew his own strengths and weaknesses.

The cavalry battle was different though: he saw Shinsou talking to three others in a group. Ojiro was one of them, but he looked nervous and kept shaking his head. Aoyama, another member of the group, struck a few poses rather than answer, while the other was a student from class 1-B, who seemed to side with Ojiro.

Shinsou's people-skills were definitely growing, but…

Shinsou was really arguing with them… Mic could guess what it was about: he wanted them to let him use his Quirk, but they were refusing. They'd have perfect teamwork if they agreed, but knowing Ojiro especially, they wanted to win on their conscious merits. Mic watched, worried. There was a chance Shinsou would just use his Quirk on them anyway as they argued, but… He didn't.

The arguing stopped, but Hizashi didn't see any tell-tale signs of the others being mind controlled. Instead, it seemed they'd come to an agreement together. Mic thrummed with pride. Shinsou would become a great hero...

Hatsume was a part of Midoriya's team, so keeping an eye on them was easy enough, while it was difficult _not _to notice Bakugou's group with the student constantly screaming about how he was going to murder everyone. At least he had excellent energy for the cameras!

The cavalry was certainly exciting, and his commentary rarely let up, although Mic had to resist the urge to commentate about Shinsou's team, who went wholly ignored by Todoroki and Bakugou's teams. Apparently everyone had it out for Midoriya! Crazy kids.

At the end, the four teams to progress were Todoroki's, Bakugou's, Shinsou's and Midoriya's, and he felt prideful at their progress. He only hoped they'd fare well in the finals…

-x-

Hizashi, Nemuri and Kan were sitting in the staff room afterwards, having a few beers to celebrate the end of another successful Sports Festival.

"What an exciting year!" Nemuri said with an eager grin. "They really turned me on! Ojiro vs. Kirishima? I was fanning myself the entire time!"

Mic laughed and downed a good few sips of beer through a straw, before he said, "I really thought Ojiro was gonna win that! Sorry Kan, but class 1-A really obliterated the competition!"

Vlad King shook his head and sipped his own beer, a line of alcohol dripping from his fangs. "Shoda did well - that Kaminari kid underestimated him and went flying outta the ring. If Iida hadn't been so fast, Shoda would've gone a lot higher. Bad match up."

"Will Midoriya be alright?" he asked Nemuri as he finished off his third drink.

"Yeah," she said with a shrug, "he'll get healed up and be back to breaking bones by tomorrow. Nothing new. I just hope Bakugou can calm his tits though, as much as I appreciate his youthful energy."

"Why did Iida leave before the ending ceremony?"

Nemuri shook her head. "I'm not sure yet… I wanna know what happened after the obstacle course." She pulled out her phone and checked it over. "The phones went weird… Was it really feedback?"

"No clue," Hizashi said, but didn't even try to fish out his own phone. "It could've been a Quirk, but not every phone was affected. According to the news online, it wasn't just at the Sports Festival either - it was all across the city."

"Everywhere?"

"Not everywhere," he said with a frown. "Some places had nothing happen. They're investigating, but they dunno what caused it yet, yo."

"Just what we needed…" Hizashi exhaled and finished the beer, just as Nemuri's phone started to ring.

She answered instantly and after only a few words on the other line, her face grew pale. "Wait... What?" Nemuri carefully set her drink down as she stood up, her expression twisted with horror. "In Hosu? We'll be there as soon as-... No? But we've known him since-... I understand. When? Okay, I'll tell Mic and Vlad. Thank you." She hung up and didn't waste any time in telling them what'd happened. "Tensei's in hospital..."

Hizashi felt cold. "What…?"

"He was patrolling in Hosu when he got attacked. He's in a serious condition."

Mic stood instantly. "We've gotta go see him, yo!"

"We can't," she said, expression pained. "He's still in serious condition… Only immediate family are allowed to see him at this stage…"

Hizashi tried to curl his fists, but the casts stopped him, so he started gnawing at the plaster. "Get these things off! We're as good as immediate family, yo! It's _Tensei!_ They can't stop us from-"

"They can and they will," she said as she folded her arms. Of course she was just as upset as him… "They think he'll pull through, but… There'll be permanent damage…"

A tense silence followed the statement. Hizashi gritted his teeth together, feeling completely useless. "He should've been here today…"

"He wasn't able to," she said more softly. "Said what he was doing was really important, but… He was looking forward to seeing Iida do his best."

More silence. This time, Kan was the one to break it, but what he said sent an icy chill through them all. "What if Eraserhead was involved?"

Mic was speechless. No, Shouta wouldn't-... He couldn't… He…

_"__Apprehending? More like 'appre-handing'! You're practically squeezing my ass, and you know, my boyfriend might get kinda jealous~" Hizashi grinned like the fucking Cheshire cat as his voice continued to echo around the directional speakers._

_"__I don't think he'd-" Tensei was silenced as a boot crunched into the side of his robotic-mask, sending him reeling back. Hizashi's hands were instantly free, and someone was already hauling him to his feet._

_"__You're incorrigible…" Shouta's voice was a dry mumble as he tried to steady the blond. He looked roughed up, with blood splattered across him, but it was impossible to tell how much was his and how much was…_

Hizashi felt sick. Had that stupid night all those years ago caused this? Had Eraserhead hunted Tensei down while everyone else had been watching the Sports Festival?

"They think it was the Hero Killer," Nemuri quickly clarified. "Tensei was trying to hunt him down."

"We can't rule out the possibility," Vlad King murmured, but they were interrupted when the door opened.

Recovery Girl stepped inside while wiping her brow. "I'm all finished healing the injured students," she said, stymying their conversation. "I can remove your bandages and cast now, Mic… Am I interrupting?"

Hizashi swallowed. "Vlad, Midnight: tomorrow we're gonna check it out." They nodded in agreement, and he followed Recovery Girl to the office. Each of his bandages and casts was removed while she ranted about the injuries Midoriya had sustained during the fight, but his mind was far away.

Was Shouta really involved? Had he hurt Tensei? Was he involved with the Hero Killer or was it just a coincidence? What'd happened to the phones? Tomorrow, they'd go to Hosu together and they'd find answers.

Once the bandages and everything was removed, Hizashi Yamada looked at himself in the mirror. A curved scar now sat beneath his right eye, a testament to the lengths he was willing to go through to protect the people he loved.


	41. Return

Chapter Forty-One

Return

"A promise of safe return: I delivered,

But the ocean is wider than I first guessed.

When roads disappeared, I followed the rivers,

But somehow got in over my head,

So a deep breath I'm taking."

\- Wait for Me (Rise Against)

The train to Hosu was quiet. There could've been a million people crammed in the seats, all chatting and yelling at the tops of their voices, and yet it still would've been a silent journey for the three pro-heroes. Of course, they weren't really heroes at that moment, for they were all dressed in their civilian attire. It wouldn't be right to see Tensei while they were in costume since…

They exited together at the stop closest to the Hosu General Hospital, but now the need for silence no longer felt necessary, especially when the sky rumbled overhead.

"Toshinori wanted to come," Hizashi said at last as he fiddled with the headphones around his neck. "I know they bonded at game night," - their monthly get together - "but I think we're already pressin' the people at having three non-family in to visit. Besides, we were lucky UA let us three have the day off."

Nemuri nodded, her heels clicking across the well kept pavement. "He can see him later, once Tensei is feeling up to it. He's awake at least, but we don't want to overload him. He's still in a bad condition."

Hizashi nodded, but felt his skin crawl. He thought he was being watched, but quickly quelled the thought - he could breathe, so it wasn't Eraserhead… He hoped. Above, clouds were growing darker, and he figured it would rain soon, although only Nemuri had brought an umbrella.

"We'll do what we can to support him," Kan said, his lispy voice sounding tougher than Hizashi would've liked.

They headed inside the hospital, and after a lot of wandering and quick questions with several different nurses, they were finally in Tensei's room. His family (minus Tenya) had been with him, but they stepped out to give them some privacy.

Hizashi's chest dropped at the sight of his friend, plugged into so many different cables and sockets, with an oxygen mask around his mouth. His bed was kept flat, which spoke volumes about the damage he must've sustained.

Despite everything, Tensei Iida smiled when he saw them. "Hey," he said, voice hoarse and muffled through the oxygen mask, "sorry you had to come out this far…"

"_[Well,]_" Hizashi said as he put his hands on his hips, _"[at least this place is quieter than Tokyo, yo!]_" However, the chirpy act didn't last long as he exhaled away the tension, and his face fell. "We're glad you're awake..."

Tensei turned his head to glance away. "...Did they tell you?"

Hizashi hadn't really considered how lucky he was to have survived the USJ attack with only a few scars. Meanwhile, Ingenium had fought a single attacker and… His spine had been badly damaged.

Tensei Iida would never be a pro-hero again.

Nemuri nodded. "Tenya has big shoes to fill… But I support him taking on your name. The students were gonna choose them today, but I've just left them a brainstorming lesson and they can decide tomorrow."

"Don't want him to be forced into it," Tensei said softly. "It should be Tenya's decision."

"...Was it really the Hero Killer who did this to you?" All eyes fell on Hizashi: even Tensei's. Mic swallowed and forced out the next question, knowing he needed answers, whether he liked what he heard or not. "Or do you think Eraserhead was involved?"

Tensei's expression softened, despite the numerous tubes, and his mask grew foggy with each deep exhale. "It was the Hero Killer… If someone else was there, I didn't… notice."

Hizashi's shoulders slumped, although there was still the possibility Stain was somehow linked to Eraserhead and All for One. He swallowed and gently placed his hand on Tensei's shoulder. "Hey… I'm…. sorry for all the dumb shit I did in the past," he whispered as he fought to keep his body from trembling. "I know it's not a great time to bring it up, but… If it brings ya any solace, then…"

The ex-hero looked at him, and for just a moment he looked completely lost. However, that didn't last long. "Like at game night? You should be… All those times you cheated at Mahjong."

Hizashi blinked in surprise, but was successfully kicked from the self-pity spiral. Right, now wasn't the time for apologies. That wouldn't bring Tensei any peace. "Oi, I've never once cheated at Mahjong! You all just suck! _[Too bad, so sad!] _And don't think we're gonna go easy on you next time!"

Nemuri snorted. "I still think we should play strip poker again."

Kan rolled his eyes. "Last time we did, you kept losing on purpose."

"Only you morons would get upset over seeing my glorious body in all its R-rated glory!"

"I vote for karaoke!" Hizashi said, gesticulating some finger guns.

Tensei laughed, although the delightful sound was followed by a few hacking coughs that instantly dampened the atmosphere again. "Think we'll have to … call off game night," he said once he was able to. "I'll be out for a while…"

"Yeah," Hizashi said as he scratched at the scar on his cheek. "How 'bout we come up with a new game each? Then when we get together again, it'll be a crazy night! No, we'll make it a full _day _of _games! [Super crazy!]"_

"We'd have to put up with your voice for an entire day?" Nemuri asked with a pointed grin. "No thanks."

"Huh?" Hizashi squeaked. "My voice is crazy cool! _[You're lucky you hear it so much!]" _The others laughed, and despite the tension, and the sounds of beeping and ventilation, and the number of cords and the occasional hacking cough, things felt a little lighter.

-x-

They bowed politely to Tensei's family before they left, but Nemuri caught them by surprise when she said, "I should talk with them about what's happened; see how they think Tenya's handling it. Go on without me."

Hizashi wasn't sure if he should stay to check on the student as well, but he decided it wouldn't be right. Nemuri was Tenya's homeroom teacher, so she had a far closer relationship with him than Mic did, so he left it to her. Even so, he debated waiting, but Vlad was already heading for the door, giving him the impression of a man on a mission.

"Maybe Shouta will be at the next game night," the blond said hopefully as he followed Kan out the hospital.

Vlad, however, didn't look convinced. "Did I ever tell you about how the fight ended? When I fought Eraserhead in the warehouse." Mic was silent, but the Blood Hero continued. "We'd both lost a lot of blood. I was worse off by the end of our fight, but I'd managed to pin him to the floor. Was planning to wait for his Erasure to end so I could drain more of his blood, force him to pass out, but… Well, the lights went out and your guitar had stopped." Kan started walking along the street, but it wasn't towards the train station. Even so, Hizashi didn't hesitate to follow. "His Quirk ended soon after, and I was draining his blood to weaken him..."

"Shouta's type B as well," Hizashi said, just to have some input in the talk. "The only blood type you can control, right?"

Vlad grunted in agreement. "He activated his Erasure again without warning. All the blood I'd been gathering from him covered the floor, and that was when he really struggled… The amount of blood we'd both lost was ridiculous, but the sudden strength he showed then… Eraser won the struggle because he was more worried about you, than I was determined to stop him. He purposefully sacrificed his blood to make the ground slippery, and he used it to knock me over. I was disorientated… He could've easily killed me, but… I think, by that point, you were the only thing he had on his mind…"

Hizashi swallowed. "Thank you for telling me…"

"I hope he hasn't changed," Kan said, more slowly, "but I also hope he has…"

"Where're we going?" He glanced up at the dark clouds, and wondered whether he should've asked Nemuri for her umbrella. The first few drops were starting to fall, but Kan only walked faster. Hizashi pulled his headphones over his ears, although they were silent - they would protect his hearing-aids from any water damage.

"We're checking out the alley where Tensei was attacked."

Hizashi nodded, but tugged a little at his outfit. "Hero work in civilian clothes? If we run into Stain, we'll be at a disadvantage, yo. _[Plus my shirt would get totally wrecked.]_"

"He only attacks heroes in costume, and he doesn't usually attack them when they're in a group, unless cornered. As much as I'd like to, we aren't here to capture him, or to get vengeance for Tensei."

"...You wanna see if Shouta _was _there…"

"It's not that I don't trust Tensei," he said slowly, "I just don't trust Eraserhead. I can detect blood with my nose, and if I've controlled a person's blood before I can single out who it belongs to. If Eraser was there, he might've bled, and there might be traces of his blood."

"Right, I almost forgot about that," Hizashi said with a forced laugh. "It's how you found out who I was that night… Who Eraser and I were…"

"I'm hoping I don't find it, but if I do we'll at least have a lead about his whereabouts. Gotta check before the rain washes the scene." Mic nodded as they turned left into an alleyway, and started walking through the dimly lit areas. The rain was starting to run through his hair, and Hizashi thought he heard something above, but when he glanced around, they were alone.

Despite that, the feeling they were being watched never once relented. "You feel it too?" Hizashi whispered while throwing his Voice beside Kan's ear, and the hero nodded in agreement. He reached out and took Hizashi's hand, and he understood the reason why: they were in civilian clothes. If the Hero Killer _was _following them, then he'd be tricked into thinking they were simply two lovebirds taking a shortcut.

This was the area Tensei had been found, with a few lines of police tape still set up, although the investigation had ended already. The duo slipped over the yellow caution lines, but didn't wait around. The rain was starting to pick up, and soon they would be drenched.

"So spooky," Hizashi said in a fabricated voice as he took Vlad's entire arm. Just an act… Just an act…

The alleyway intersected directly with another, creating a four-way intersection, and a gust of wind swept over them, bringing with it a rush of raindrops, and...

"Fuck," Vlad said and grabbed Hizashi, pushing him against a wall.

The blond hissed as his head hit the bricks, but any questions he might've voiced were interrupted by the sound of metal chiming against the pavement. The Hero Killer?

He heard footsteps approaching from the alley, slow and precise, but before he could see who it was, he was wrenched away from the wall. Kan kept him safe behind his back, but his bulky body also blocked his view. His eyes turned to the floor where a throwing knife rested in a forming puddle, having missed its intended prey.

"You smell of blood," Vlad King said, never moving from his protective shield stance. "Your _own_ blood."

For a moment, Hizashi thought he was talking to him, but he quickly realised how stupid the thought was when another knife flew at them. Although Kan could've dodged it, he purposefully moved his arm in the way, catching the blade in his flesh. He grunted in pain, but was quick to pull it out and allow hot blood to roll down his sleeve.

Right, Vlad didn't have his glove, so he needed a wound to work with.

Despite the dripping red, Kan did nothing with it: he didn't turn it into a weapon, or even crystallise the open wound.

No… He _couldn't._

Because…

Hizashi couldn't help himself. He ducked beneath Sekijiro's arm and came face to face with their attacker. His breath caught in his throat.

The man was walking towards them. Despite the downpour of rain, his long black hair stood tall. Ribbons of spiked material floated about his body, giving the impression of writhing snakes, and his mask was illuminated by _two _red circles of light.

It was Sho-... No.

It was _Eraserhead._

Why was he here? Was he really involved with the Hero Killer? Had he stolen Tensei's dream of heroism, just as his had been stolen long ago?

Why was he _attacking them?_

Hizashi tried to call out, but those red eyes were on them both.

Vlad grabbed him again and shoved him back, shielding him with his body so Hizashi could breathe. "Eraserhead," called the Blood Hero, "you bastard! You leave for eight years, and now this?"

_"__You," _said the voice of Shouta, although it was pained and wary. He sounded like a wounded dog. "_Don't… Touch_."

Hizashi's heart missed a beat. Those words…

_You don't get to touch him._

Shouta's words to Vlad from a lifetime ago, somehow still there, but this time they didn't make Hizashi grin. Once again, the man he so desperately wanted to save was right there, and yet…

"He's after _you_," Hizashi murmured while he could. "Must still see you as an enemy from the warehouse fight." He swallowed and when next he spoke, he was calling out, "Shouta! It's okay! He's not our enemy!"

"Don't you get it, Mic?" Kan growled, falling into a fighting stance. "Nothing'll get through to him - except maybe a good beating. He's a _villain, _whether he wants to be or not, and it's our job to bring him down."

"But the-..." He cut himself off.

"This is what you needed, right? Guess I'll get my rematch after all…"

-x-

Eraserhead was boiling with rage.

He'd found Hizashi, the one spot of colour in his red world, and he'd followed him here, only to find his light was being held hostage by the **_enemy. _**The one word chattered around his mind like a chorus, only growing louder and louder, until it was a cacophony.

_Enemy. Enemy. Enemy. _Stealing away his _Home, Home, Home._

Eraser pulled a knife from one of the many sheaths that dotted his costume, listening to the crisp sound it made as metal was drawn. Then it began. He threw his scarf forward like tendrils, but Vlad King avoided the barbs as he leapt away with Hizashi under his arm. He watched the blond's body stiffen as Erasure fell on him too, but it wasn't enough to make Eraserhead relent in his Quirk.

He'd save Hizashi Yamada from this enemy.

Eraser ran. His body sliced through the rain like a knife. Vlad dodged into one of the intersecting alleys to block line of sight, but if the hero had thought himself safe from Erasure, he was wrong.

In his mind, Eraserhead could still see him clearly.

In fact, he could currently see six images, although two were-

Hizashi grabbed something from his back pocket and threw it at the ground: a sparking phone. It was quickly followed by Vlad's. One had fallen with the camera face-down against the pavement, but the other now showed him a tent of sky, just above the alley.

"My Quirk's still erased!" he heard Vlad growl, voice clear despite the downpour. From one of the windows in his mind, he could see the Hero preparing to lash out once he moved around the corner. Eraser hooked his scarf to a fire escape above and launched himself off the ground.

He swung around the corner, surprising Vlad as he caught his head with his boot. There was a sharp crunch as Eraser's heel directly collided with one of his oversized teeth, but it held. In fact, Vlad managed to grab hold of his ankle, but that only meant Eraser had a close target as his scarf unhooked from the fire escape.

The barbed folds wrapped around Vlad's arm. The spikes ripped right through the thin civilian shirt and hooked into his thick flesh, but the hero didn't hesitate as he slammed Eraser into the pavement. For a moment, his camera Erasure faltered. He was still recovering from his accidental over shoot on the day of the Sports Festival, after all.

"Shouta!" called Hizashi's voice between loud inhales. "We're not your enemy!"

They'd brainwashed Hizashi.

Eraser had to save him. Heroes couldn't be trusted.

Eraserhead pulled his capture weapon and Vlad's body toppled towards him, but the villain was ready. He caught the hero's weight on the soles of his feet and shifted his centre of gravity to his shoulders. Vlad's body rolled over him and Eraser kicked out, sending the Blood Hero flying through the alleyway.

Eraserhead was up in moments, dragging on his scarf to prematurely end Vlad King's exit. The hero cried in agony as he hit the ground, and several hooks were ripped out.

**_"_****_STOP!" _**The Voice Quirk threw Eraser's body against the bricks, catching him off-guard. "IT'S THE CAMERAS!" Hizashi called to Vlad. "He can erase your Quirk if he can see you through a camera!"

Eraser pulled himself from the wall and managed to reactivate his full Quirk, re-opening the six windows to the world. Hizashi was effectively silenced, although the villain's head was ringing. "Hizashi…" he managed to say as he took a step towards his Home.

"Mic!" Vlad called, but through the cameras, Eraser had seen the large hero lining up the attack long before it had even come close to reaching him. With his capture weapon still tightly hooked around Vlad's arm, it was easy enough to grab hold of the material and swing, but the hero managed to resist him.

Vlad took hold of the scarf, despite the agony that would've come from the barbed points slicing into his palm, and pulled on it with all his strength. Eraser's boots lost place on the pavement as he went flying towards the Blood Hero, but the villain wasn't worried.

Moments before Vlad's fist collided with his mask, Eraserhead swung his own body to dodge beneath the larger man. The knife he'd drawn earlier made a satisfactory _squelch_ as it sunk into Vlad's abdomen.

Eraser didn't stop there, however. With the momentum, he used his leg to swipe Vlad's footing out from under him, sending the large man crashing to the ground, knife still embedded in his flesh. With the enemy downed, Eraser pulled the rest of his scarf away from the man's arm, leaving him with more deep lacerations.

He could've finished him off, but Eraserhead had more pressing matters to attend to. He'd saved Hizashi. The man turned to face his Home.

The blond could still hold his breath with ease. Was Father watching right now? Would Eraserhead get punished…? Oh. He had a solution. Father would be happy, and Eraserhead would have his Home. Father would fix him: Father would fix whatever brainwashing the heroes had done to his splash of colour.

Eraserhead would take Hizashi Yamada to Father.

He stepped towards him, but the blond stepped back… and fell into a fighting stance.

The man had no costume, no technology, and what muscle he had was nothing compared to Eraserhead's strength. Right now, Hizashi couldn't even speak, and yet he was planning to fight him?

His Home would be home soon enough.

Just as he took another step, he noticed a shadow through one of the six eye-windows: the phone that faced the sky. Eraserhead leapt back in time to avoid a deadly flourish of blades as a new contender landed between him and his Home.

Along with the steel, he could see flares of red and white cloth, ragged around the edges of the fabric. From the different angles, he automatically started to list off the number and class of the annoyance's weapons, but his view was interrupted when the man threw a knife back at the camera behind Hizashi.

He heard his Home breathe, his Erasure blocked by the new intruder's bulk as he stood between them, unflinching.

However, the man who stood in his way wasn't a hero. No…

He was the Hero _Killer._

"You," growled Stain, his voice akin to a rabid animal, "won't harm All-Might's chosen one!"


	42. Can't Hide

Chapter Forty-Two

Can't Hide

_"__Every night again, dancing with the moonlight,_

_Somewhere far away, I can hear your call..._

_I'm out of my head, of my heart, and my mind,_

_'Cause you can run but you can't hide,_

_I'm gonna make you mine."_

\- The Wolf (SIAMES)

Hizashi felt cold.

Eraserhead had stabbed Sekijiro without a single hint of hesitation, and all the blond pro-hero could do was watch. Without his voice or his Quirk or his tech, there was so little he could do. He'd been a deer in headlights.

Then Eraser had turned to him with those glowing red eyes, and all Hizashi's instincts had screamed for him to _run_.

Had something happened since the USJ? This Aizawa seemed _different._

Kan hadn't been knocked unconscious, but Eraserhead had lost interest in him, like a cat turning its nose up at an immobile mouse. This was _bad… _but Hizashi refused to run as he fell into a fighting stance.

Something flipped in Hizashi's mind. What Vlad had said was true: Eraserhead was a villain, and he had to treat him as one.

Despite his willingness to fight, someone else dropped in to protect him. Hizashi saw weapons and frayed garments and black hair. For a moment he thought he might've been hallucinating past-Shouta again, but this man was too different. No, this wasn't a hallucination.

This was the Hero Killer: Stain.

The man drew a knife and threw it back, successfully puncturing the security camera Hizashi hadn't noticed before, and oxygen flooded his lungs. He'd been right! Giran had warned him about it during their short reunion:_ All I'll say is stay away from cameras._

Phones struggled to handle the invasive Quirk, thus the sparking, and-

...The Sports Festival! Wait, had Shouta been responsible? Fuck, what was the range on the Quirk?

No, he could think about that part later! Vlad was bleeding out, and between Eraserhead and Mic was the _Hero Killer_!

Hizashi shuddered. His skin was cold now, his clothes completely soaked through with rain, but he focused on inhaling oxygen while he could. He could scream and take both Eraser _and _Stain out, but Vlad was in the range, so…

"You," growled the murderer, "won't harm All-Might's chosen one!" ...All-Might's chosen one? "You, villain, will be sacrificed to build a just world!"

Then there was movement: a flash as Stain pulled out a deteriorating sword. He heard the sound of shoes hitting the wet pavement, and then Hizashi couldn't breathe again. Stain and Eraser moved in a blur of blades and barbs, with the clash of metal drowning out even the roars of thunder. They moved so fast, bouncing off walls and knocking over trashcans, but Hizashi didn't have time to waste watching.

With the way cleared, Hizashi ran to Kan's side. He was trying to pull himself up, his hand curled around the knife handle, although he was careful not to pull it out. His other arm was a mess too, and the blood practically poured from the open wounds, turning the rain puddles crimson.

Hizashi couldn't breathe here, so there had to be another camera nearby! He grabbed the discarded knife Eraser had thrown earlier and started searching the alley for the camera. Now he was trying to find it, it wasn't long before he spotted the lens of the security device, the white casing dripping with water. Hizashi climbed onto an old vending machine so he could reach, but before he could puncture it with the knife, dark material wrapped around his wrist.

Barbs bit into his flesh and the whole world tilted as he was pulled from the height. If his lungs had been able to exhale at all, he would've been winded by the fall. His headphones were jostled, but remained in place.

Even though his view was now upside down, he could just make out the sight of Eraserhead through the sheet of rain. The villain was balanced atop the railing of the nearby fire escape, his scarf connecting them like a thorned string of fate.

Where was-

He'd been so focused on Eraser, it took a few seconds to notice Stain only a few feet away from where Hizashi lay, but the murderer's attention was trained on Eraserhead.

"Your conviction is strong!" called the Hero Killer, the compliment directed at the villain. "However, I cannot let you kill All-Might's chosen one! A vile villain, redeemed by the world's greatest hero! A symbol for justice that I can't let you destroy!" To punctuate the statement, he severed Eraserhead's capture weapon.

Hizashi's hand fell to the ground, splashing in the gathered water. The pain of the barbs numbed with the cold, but his eyes stayed on those two red circles that meant Eraserhead.

God, he was being an idiot.

The boots beside him disappeared as the clash of weapons resumed, and Hizashi pulled himself to his feet. He hadn't inhaled in a while now, but he had plenty of time left in his lungs. Kan was near… No, he'd actually managed to stand, although he was leaning against the wall. Blood was pouring from the wounds, and his tough face was pale.

Teamwork: Hizashi worked best in a team.

He hurried to Vlad King's side and helped support him as he gestured to the camera he'd tried to destroy before. Some of Eraser's scarf was still dangling from Hizashi's wrist, the hooks safer to leave in his flesh. If they could get rid of that camera, they'd be on firmer footing: Hizashi would be able to breathe and Vlad would be able to stop himself from bleeding out. The two could run, but there was no telling how far Eraser's range was and there were cameras _everywhere_.

Despite the knife in his gut and his damaged arm, Vlad found the strength to pull himself from the wall with Hizashi's help. Together they reached the camera, and slipped under its gaze…

Oxygen returned to Hizashi's lungs. This was the only camera here!

As he breathed, Vlad didn't waste a single second. The blood on his arm completely crystallised, and when he held it tall, a pillar shot up and pierced the camera. The broken pieces rained over them, but a sense of relief was impossible with the fight taking place so nearby.

Hizashi spun on his heel and had a better time following the blows now he wasn't concentrating on not breathing. Both Stain and Eraser were evenly matched in speed and technique, although the former appeared somewhat stronger. The Erasure villain was forced into parrying his attacks by redirecting them, rather than stopping them entirely. If Stain had had his Quirk, there would've been a clear winner, but the Erasure was enough to keep them balanced.

Thankfully the two phones had finally drowned in the puddles, meaning the sparking had stopped, and there were no more cameras for Eraserhead to use.

A Hero Killer and All For One's henchmen: _both _had to be stopped, but…

A sudden fear resonated through him.

What if Stain _killed _Eraserhead?

"Can you fight?" Present Mic asked Vlad King, his voice low.

"With my Quirk… But we won't have that chance for long…" Vlad knelt low and closed his eyes to concentrate on something. "Stain: his blood is type B…" So, the Blood Hero would be able to control it…

Present Mic ripped the barbed cloth from around his wrist, hissing in pain. "One move," Hizashi told him as he offered his own arm. Hot blood flowed from the wounds and dripped into the water puddles below, dirtying it with more red. "You've got three extra donors, all ready to 'help', yo…"

Sekijiro did his best to grin, despite the agony (and despite his impressive teeth). "Let's cross that finish line then…" Vlad King pulled his hands from the ground and raised them high. "PRISON OF CRIMSON THORNS!"

Blood shot into the air as it was pulled from Kan's wounds, the puddles below, and even the lacerations on Mic and the villains. Eraserhead's view was blocked before he had the chance to erase Vlad King's Quirk, and both villains were pinned in a prison of crystallised blood, with spires connecting to the alley walls like spider threads.

Hizashi was lightheaded by the sudden loss of blood, but victory was at hand. They'd captured both Eraserhead AND Stain in one move! The sounds of struggling could be heard as blades clattered against the crystal, but even if pieces were chipped off, Vlad could repair the damage with just a little more blood from the captives.

"It's okay," Vlad said, looking just as exhausted as Hizashi felt. "We've wo-"

The crystallised blood _melted._

Sekijiro Kan collapsed without warning. No… He wasn't the only one.

They _all _collapsed.

_What? _Was this a Quirk? Whose-

"You combined our blood," growled Stain, "and crystallised it…" Crimson dripped down from the villain's mouth, and an odd image entered Hizashi's mind. Had he eaten some of the crystallised blood? Was this _his_ Quirk? "Usually my saliva breaks down my own, but since it was solid, it couldn't. Even so-"

The sound of shoes scraping could just be made out over the downpour. One of them was-

_Eraserhead _pulled himself to his feet.

-x-

Everything was red. The smell of blood filled his nostrils and made him dizzy, although the loss of his own blood might've been the reason for the nausea.

The Hero Killer was down. The enemy was down. His Home was down.

There were no more cameras that would be able to see them, so there was no reason to use his full Quirk, and his hair flopped down to covered the left lens of his mask. His feet carried him forward, each step sending ripples through the crimson puddles.

"Eraserhead!" called Vlad King. He started yelling some more, but he'd already stopped listening. Whatever he said wasn't important.

Because his Home was here.

Eraser reached Present Mic, his long blond hair dirtied by the red, but he remained the most colourful thing in his world. "Hizashi," he said as softly as he could as he pulled his paralysed Home into his arms.

"Shouta," he said back, and Eraserhead listened. "Come home…"

He _was _Home. Eraserhead carefully took Hizashi's injured wrist and examined the deep lacerations he'd been forced to give him. Father's Doctor would be able to fix those up easily, just like he'd fixed Eraserhead time and time again. Even so, the villain tore off a part of his own sleeve and carefully tied it around the wounds.

With that done, he picked Hizashi up and carried him deeper into the alleyways, away from the red, red, red and the enemy and the Hero Killer. He'd take him to Father and they'd be together, and-

Hizashi inhaled deeply, but his left eye was quickly turned towards him before he could scream with his Quirk…

...His Home had wanted to hurt him. Why? Why didn't he want to go to Father? His Father would-

Eraserhead stopped.

Wait… Father would _hurt _Hizashi.

Yes, it would be to teach him an important lesson, to make him learn and to be better, but… What if Father's Doctor tried to change him, as he'd changed Eraserhead?

Would the Doctor also turn him into a-…

Despite the brainwashing, Hizashi was perfect just the way he was. He was his Home - his one splash of colour in a red, red world - but would he still be if they changed him? Father might not realise how perfect he already was…

Eraser bowed his head so his hair covered his left eye, and Hizashi could breathe again. "Shouta," whispered the blond, tears of _something _forming in those green, green eyes… Or maybe that was only rain? It didn't matter, because then he said those words. "I still love you…"

Shouta stared- No, no, no, _Eraserhead! _He was _Eraserhead _and…

Shouta was gone…

But…

Eraserhead wouldn't let his father hurt Hizashi Yamada.

He carried him to the entrance of the alleyway, so they were near the busy streets beyond, and he carefully set him down against the wall. The blond was still paralysed, but he'd be able to call for help from here, and Eraser took a moment to gently brush his damp fringe from his face as something soft stirred inside him.

"Love…" he said, although the word sounded so much sweeter from Hizashi's mouth. He ran his thumb over those lips and watched them slightly tremble as a spark ran through his skin. Hizashi … was safe with the heroes?

"Shouta," Mic said, a bit more force in his tone, "ya gotta… save Vlad… You can't just leave him, yo! The… Hero Killer will-... _Please," _he said with such force is made his paralysed body tremble, "get him someplace safe. I love _you."_ Vlad King: the enemy? He wanted him to… to save his enemy? "Please Sho… Save him, so I can … save _you_…"

Eraserhead pulled away from his Home and took a step back. Father was going to punish him for this…

He turned and left Hizashi Yamada, racing through the drenched alleyways, planning to do as his love, love, _Love _requested. However, before he could reach Vlad King, a putrid taste filled his mouth. Grey liquid oozed from his throat, and he was forced to spit it out as it mercilessly engulfed his entire body, although he didn't put up much struggle: he knew this Quirk.

It was a dramatic shift, to go from the cold rain to the dark room, lit only by the screens. On one of the rectangles of light, he could make out his own hand as he collapsed to the floor and immediately kowtowed. The grey liquid disappeared without a trace. Father loomed over Eraserhead, and only then did he realise how badly he'd been wounded.

His entire body was sliced up badly from his fight with the Hero Killer, and he'd lost a lot of blood from both the lacerations and Vlad King's attack. Eraserhead's clothes were torn in far too many places, some of his knives were missing, and even his barbed scarf had lost some length. Red was dripping on Father's floor, as was the water from his clothes, and he couldn't stop his body from trembling.

"I'm disappointed in you, Eraserhead…" Father's heel came up and rested on his scalp, forcing his face against the ground. His mask bit into his forehead, but compared to the wounds across his body, the pain was minor. "And in you, Giran." Eraserhead heard the slight scuff of the information broker's shoes, and his presence didn't bode well for the Erasure Villain's future. "You know what happens when you do something I don't like, like arranging to meet that hero I decided to spare all those years ago… You're both making me want to change my mind…"

In the past, Giran might've said something to defend himself, but those times were long gone. If the information broker said anything, Eraserhead's punishment would only be worse.

"Good," Father said, his voice pleased, despite his apparent disappointment in them. "Now, Eraserhead, you must be punished. I've been far too lax with you lately, and it hasn't been good for you at all. I'm sure I can come up with something … suitable."

-x-

Hizashi couldn't bring himself to cry for help, even though he could hear people only a few metres away. His body was hidden from sight by an old, empty dumpster, so no one saw him, and he had no intention of dragging civilians into his mess.

Was Sekijiro okay? Would Shouta really save him from Stain, or would he murder both while they were paralysed?

Had that alleyway now seen the end of two great heroes: Ingenium _and _Vlad King…?

The paralysis wore off before anyone returned, and Hizashi shakily pulled himself to his feet, but wasted no time in racing back the way Shouta had carried him. However, before he could reach the alleyway's intersection, he heard a shout above the roar of rain: "Yamada!"

"Kan!" he called back, recognising the voice, and as he turned a corner he ran straight into the Blood Hero. Arms wrapped around him as his friend caught him in an embrace, and Hizashi was quick to hug back. "You're okay?"

As they pulled away, Hizashi had the chance to glance him over. Kan had re-crystallised the wound around the knife and across his arm, stopping himself from losing more blood while temporarily patching up any organs that had been punctured in the attack. He was pale, but there were no new wounds on him. "I'm fine," he said at last, although he was wobbling on his feet. "Where's Eraserhead?"

"He left," Hizashi said, although he could barely believe it himself. Why had Shouta taken him away at all when he could've easily killed the other two while they were paralysed? "Something clicked in him, but I don't know what. I told him to go back and save you, because… Where's the Hero Killer?"

Kan bit his lip and shook his head. "He must've known the exact time of the paralysis; he instantly moved when it wore off. Mentioned something about me being worthy of living for now, and hurried off in the direction you'd both gone."

"I haven't seen him… We should look around for Shouta. He might've gone after him when-"

"Hizashi," Vlad said as he put a hand on his shoulder, "Eraserhead can handle himself… We've gotta go to hospital, and report this to Hero HQ. If we run into him again and he erases my Quirk…" He gestured at the wound on his front, and didn't need to explain any more.

Present Mic swallowed but nodded, offering his shoulder to lean on. "Sorry… You're right. We've gotta tell Nemuri… But… Why wasn't Sho paralysed too?"

Vlad shook his head as they started towards the hospital, only stopping to grab their waterlogged phones from the crimson puddles. "Quirk might've been more mutated than we thought… Erasure through cameras: that one sounds like a bad joke against you…"

Hizashi nodded, his fists curling as he remembered the way Shouta had tenderly moved the fringe from his face, just as he had during the USJ. He glanced at the black material around his wounded wrist, and something Giran said stood out without warning:

_There ain't much Aizawa left to save. Not really sure exactly how much, but whatever is is centred on you. You gotta be careful though, 'cause he's dangerous. You'll have to be willin' to do things you don't wanna to protect him. He'll wanna go back to his 'Father', and even I ain't sure which of you two holds more sway in 'im. Eraser might end up hurtin' you if it'd clear a route to the Boss._

He remembered the rough, unsure way Shouta had said the word 'love', as if he hadn't known Hizashi still- … God, he was an idiot… Of course he hadn't known - he was _engaged! _Shouta was still there, and Shouta still loved him, but he genuinely believed Hizashi had moved on and forgotten him! His plan had worked, but at what cost to Sho?

"Nothing's changed," Hizashi said at last as they made their way onto the street. "First chance we get, we're gonna save him for good. Let's hope we got the signal before my phone died." It was less crowded, due to the rain, but some civilians with umbrellas saw them and instantly rushed over to see if they were okay.

However, before anything could really be said, someone else squeezed through the others and held her umbrella over them. "You had me worried sick!" Nemuri said, but paused once she noticed the blood. "You idiots went after the-" She stopped herself before she mentioned the Hero Killer, and quickly took up her post supporting Kan's other side. "Come on, you have a lot of explaining to do."

Hizashi glanced up at the umbrella, and for just a moment he thought he saw Stain himself, glancing at them from a faraway rooftop, but then he was gone. He took Nemuri's phone and quickly called Hero HQ while they walked, to tell them of the sighting and of everything else that had happened, his stomach in knots.

How differently would everything have gone had Stain not appeared…?

Hizashi was 'All-Might's chosen one' apparently, a villain redeemed… Knowing the murderer thought so highly of him was not a comforting thought.

He only hoped, wherever he was, Shouta was okay.


	43. Tried to Live Forever

Chapter Forty-Three

Tried to Live Forever

_"Silly little girl who tried to live forever, live forever:_

_Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, the bitter pleasure._

_Oh, wicked little boy who tried to steal her treasure, for the bitter pleasure._

_Now they're cursed forever; Cursed together."_

\- The Wolf and the Sheep (Alec Benjamin)

Kan was in a stable condition, his wounds healed, although the school would give him several days off to recuperate. Tensei was probably the most relieved that Vlad and Mic had survived their encounter with the Hero Killer - followed closely by Nemuri. Even Toshinori had taken the first train after school to meet with them and discuss the events. He, Nemuri and Hizashi now stood just outside the hospital, waiting while the latter made an important phone call.

Mic sneezed into the receiver, and quickly sniffled out an apology to Nezu. The principal was at school, but Hizashi had phoned him on the urgent matter. "_Shouta_ made the phones freak out across the city! He wasn't linked to Tensei's fight cause it didn't happen at all in Hosu. His Erasure can take over cameras, but phones have a hard time o' processing the Quirk, thus the sparking. The reason it didn't affect all of 'em was 'cause some phones didn't have cameras!"

"You really are over explaining that," Nezu said, and Hizashi rubbed a tissue against his nose.

"Look, Nezu, check over the map. If Sho was at the centre of the area of effect, then we might be able to figure out All for One's hideout!"

"This theory only works if Aizawa _has _to be at the centre."

"I know," he groaned, "but there's no harm in checkin'!" Hizashi sneezed again, and Toshinori offered him a fresh tissue, which he took eagerly. "I know you're busy, Nez, but-"

"Say no more," the principal said with finality. "I want Eraserhead to be recovered as well. I still haven't repaid him… Just don't go running off into any more alleys."

"Right," he said. "Thanks, yo. Text me once ya got somethin'." Hizashi hung up the phone and sneezed two more times. "This is like, the worst possible time to get a cold, yo…"

Toshinori shook his head as the three started for the train station. "What do you expect, fighting in the rain like that? The kids were really worried about you three when you weren't at school today…"

Hizashi nodded in acknowledgement, but his mind wasn't really there anymore. He had a lot he needed to think over and plan. Nemuri and Toshinori did most of the talking, although they were both just as quiet and sombre as he was. In fact, the Voice Hero didn't say anything much until he and All-Might were back home.

Heater hurried over at the sight of them, and Hizashi stooped down and held her close. "Toshi," he said, voice soft and troubled, "we need to call off the engagement…"

All-Might stared at him in amazement, but slowly the expression faded to gentle understanding. "Okay."

The cat purred in his arms, and Hizashi carefully scratched her behind the ear, just the way she liked it. "He didn't know… I thought he'd _know_. I thought he'd know me, and how much I loved him… How stubborn I am. But he doesn't… He doesn't even know that Kan's not an enemy, yo!" He let Heater go as his voice rose, but Mic couldn't bring himself to stand up. "And this is the way I've always been… Trying to plan ten billion steps ahead, thinkin' everyone else is only one step behind. I used to always win like that, but with Sho, I've only ever lost… I overthink, I over plan, I overestimate… and I lose him every time."

Toshinori sat beside him on the floor, but didn't touch him. "Hizashi-"

He held up a hand to cut him off. "It's fine, yo. I don't… feel sorry for me. I feel sorry for everyone else, having to put up with it… I feel sorry for Shouta." He pulled his glasses off and wiped at his cheeks, but he wasn't crying. "We've gotta call it off. I'm sorry for what it'll do to your rep - you can come up with whatever reason you want: that I cheated on you, that you wanted someone better, that-"

"We'll come up with something that doesn't ruin either of our reputations."

He swallowed and nodded. "...Stain called me your 'chosen one'. To him, I was a symbol of something more, that even a villain could be saved, but he only knew the story the media showed… I don't mean to sound ungrateful, and I know you've done a lot for me, Toshi, but _you _didn't save me." Hizashi stood up at last and pulled out his phone. It was busted by the rain, but he always had everything backed up, including the picture of him and his lost lover beneath the cherry blossoms on their first day… And now the signal, ready to de-code. "If I'd never met Shouta again - if we'd never fought the night of our debuts - I wouldn't be here today. Maybe I would've been where Sho is now, a dog for All for One, or maybe I'd already be dead."

Heater rubbed against his legs, purring up a storm, and outside their small world it was once again raining. He recalled the sight of a boy in the rain, rescuing a small black kitten from a tree.

"You didn't save me, All-Might: at least, you didn't save me alone. Kurogiri and Giran saved me, by practically raising me like a son and then by sacrificing themselves so I could live. Nezu saved me. I know it was because I saved him first, but he worked his tail off to clear my name; to give me this life. Nemuri and Kan and Tensei saved me. My students saved me. You saved me. _I _saved me…" He paused to sneeze and shiver, pulling his shirt even closer to his body, but what needed to be said needed to be said. "But if I'd never fought Eraserhead, none of you would've mattered. Shouta Aizawa - a _villain - _saved me. People call me your chosen one, but that's wrong…"

He looked to the window, where rain pummelled against the glass, but he was safe from the torrent. Maybe Shouta was safe from the rain as well, wherever he was – Hizashi could only hope.

"_He _saved me. So we're going to save him, and I'm going to make sure he remembers how stubborn I am, and how much I love him, even after all this time. I'm Shouta's chosen one, and he's mine." He looked back to Toshinori, and forced himself to grin. "So, let's tell Hero HQ I want my _fucking_ guitar back."

-x-

Eraserhead was dropped in the middle of a large room with white tiles and a high ceiling. His weapons had been taken from him, including all his knives and his capture scarf - Father didn't want him to have the upper hand. He'd called it a 'fight', but this was really an endurance test to see how long Eraser would last. 'Winning' was impossible.

A loud chorus of groans represented the entrance of the Nomu as the walls opened to let them in. Judging by the sound of their shambling feet, there were four in total, but the echo of beating wings told him there were really five.

His Erasure Quirk didn't work against the hulking beasts, these monsters that Father and his doctor had made. Often his Father had stroked his hair and told him he'd considered turning Eraser into a _mindless_ Nomu, like them, but he was usually such a good boy, and he was worth more as he was.

This would certainly be a punishment though. The fight would last until either Eraserhead couldn't go on, or the Nomu couldn't, but his own body still had limits, while the monsters didn't.

He could hear them approach, but he didn't yet move as he methodically calculated a strategy. If they grabbed him, he'd be dead. He had to attack the limbs and head, since their chests were too thick to harm, but he had to avoid their teeth and claws. Eraser had to stay low to the ground since the ceiling was too high up to be of any help and he didn't have his scarf for mobility. It would be safest if he tried to maintain contact with the ground, in case he had to change momentum at short notice.

His planning ended as two of the Nomu neared.

As they raced for him, Eraserhead rolled back, beneath the legs of the one with more spindly limbs. The sound of their bodies crashing together offered some motivation, but he didn't have a second to relax as the flying Nomu lunged for him, claws outstretched. Eraser crouched low and used all four limbs to spring himself far away from its reach, putting a good amount of distance between him and the attackers so he could quickly give each beast a number: 1, 2, 3, 4 and Flying.

1 and 2 were currently an amalgam of writhing limbs as they struggled to part, while 3 and 4 were approaching quickly. Of all of them, 4 appeared the most dangerous, but the most useful, with large chainsaws sticking from extra limbs. It would be risky, but if he could turn those weapons on the others, then-

Eraserhead evaded the claws of the Flying Nomu again and grabbed for its wing, hoping to tear a hole in the membrane to render it flightless, but he was forced to release it and back off as number 4 neared. The saws sliced against the floor where he'd stood moments before, sending sparks skirting into the air.

He swallowed, but was interrupted as Father's voice spoke through the room. "Now, Eraserhead, I've been so disappointed with you lately. I thought I could trust you to behave."

1 and 2 ran at him, but when he went to slip under their long legs again, number 3 was waiting with a mouth full of strong teeth. It went to clamp down on his shin, but he was able to shove his boot in the vice instead. The powerful jaws sunk into the hard material, but Eraser was able to wrench his foot free so he could escape.

3 chewed on the empty boot, crushing it easily before it spat out the remains. It hurt to put weight on the ankle now, but Eraser's pain threshold was as large as this arena. He thought he heard people cheering, but the only real voice in that room was his own steady breath and the voice of Father.

"I hate hurting you like this, but would it be right of me to let your misbehaviour go unchecked? You're supposed to stay away from that 'hero' - all of you were. So, Giran, do you want to tell us what you told him?"

The information broker was surely watching this - it was his punishment too.

Eraserhead dropped down to all-fours again as he evaded the Flying Nomu and gritted his teeth. There was still a small fire inside him, the residue of something he didn't quite comprehend. Those flames wanted Giran to remain quiet, even though it would only result in more pain for Eraser.

Even so, those flames no longer burned in the information broker. "Told him not to be sorry," Giran said. "We all made the decision to save him, and to give ourselves to your service."

...Save? Eraserhead couldn't remember something like that…

Father laughed as Eraser kept dodging claws and sawblades. "Yes, you sacrificed everything for him, didn't you? And how has he repaid you three? Just look at poor Eraserhead - that Voice Hero sent the Hero Killer after him."

His Home… He'd sacrificed _everything _for his Home? And his Home had-...

Eraserhead's ankle was snared by number 1, and it groaned victoriously. He didn't let himself panic as he slammed his remaining boot into the creature's eye, and the victory sound turned into a wail. It released him, and he was able to limp away.

Giran was silent, but Father continued. "It's all just an act. That hero doesn't care about any of you. If he did, you wouldn't be here."

_I still love you._

His Home's words buzzed through his mind, yet they were so contradictory to what Father said. Were they really a lie…? There was no way Father would be lying to him, after all, so that meant-

He dodged a sawblade, but it managed to nick his am, sending hot blood running through his tattered sleeve. Eraserhead was able to sweep 4's legs out from under it, sending it toppling back, just as 3 approached. The villain grabbed one of the saw arms and swiped it at the creature, earning a shrill cry as he cut off one of its arms. Red, red blood roiled to the white floor, but in his mind, Eraser heard no cheers: now he heard jeers of disgust.

He was caught off-guard by the imagined sound, until pain roared through him.

4 had managed to drive one of its chainsaws partway through the back of Eraser's leg. He scrambled away like a wounded animal, leg wobbling. It was a deep wound - not deep enough to sever the limb, but the hot blood wasted no time in gushing down his skin, making his footing slippery.

"What else did you tell him?" Father asked Giran.

"I told him Kurogiri and I were okay, but Eraser was another matter. Told him you do _this -_ punish him for what _we_ do."

"I don't like your tone," Father said simply, and it was the only warning Eraser got.

Electricity shot through the floor, and his body instantly collapsed with involuntary convulsions. The Nomu were unharmed, thanks to their absorption Quirks, and Eraserhead was completely helpless as the Flying Nomu grabbed him and carried his body high up.

"Stop!" called Giran in a panic. "I didn't tell him about Shouta's left eye! I didn't even tell them what he _is! _I promise! They don't know he's a No-"

The sound cut out.

The flying Nomu released him, and his body plummeted to the concrete below. He got lucky with the landing: his arm managed to cushion his head from the fall, but he felt a bone snap in the limb, and several ribs were surely broken as well. A normal human would've undoubtably been knocked out by the fall, if not killed, but Eraserhead was no longer a normal human.

At least the floor wasn't electrified any more.

The contents of his belt spewed across the ground, and his eyes landed on his Charm, with its broken star and rusted chain, and a memory returned.

_You better keep that keyring, cause it's now a symbol of our love~!_

His body trembled, but he forced his limbs to work as he reached out and took his Charm, planning to protect it with everything he had. His mind was filled with blond hair and emerald eyes and an overly eager smile, and he found the strength to continue fighting.

-x- *gore warning – entrails mentioned*

Eraserhead didn't know how long he'd been fighting, but it felt like days. His body was collapsing, worlds beyond any normal human limit, while the mindless Nomu knew nothing of exhaustion. The voices of Giran and Father hadn't returned, although he didn't doubt that the former was watching him.

The Nomu were all minorly damaged, especially their legs, and he'd managed to render the flying beast incapable of flight with the number of holes he'd torn in its wings.

However, Eraser's luck couldn't last forever. He tried to grab hold of 4's arm again, to use the chainsaw as a weapon against 2, but his foot slipped on a puddle of blood. The weapon he'd been trying to grab burrowed into his front and tore up his flesh like it was no thicker than fabric. He nearly blacked out from the pain alone, but he forced himself away.

His hand immediately moved to the mortal wound, and he felt hot entrails against his skin. It took him several moments longer to realise they were his.

At last, his body collapsed. As he hit the floor, his Charm escaped his measly grip and bounced across the ground. Although his consciousness was slipping, he reached out to take it, to die with the last thing he had to remember his Love, Love, Love, but-

The Nomu with the chainsaws approached. Its foot stomped down on his Charm, crushing it to dust before his eyes.

_You better keep that keyring, cause it's now a symbol of our love~!_

His hair floated. The encroaching darkness turned as scarlet as blood.

Eraser's body was up in seconds as he leapt for the Nomu, a cry tearing from his throat. He landed on its shoulders, his own entrails slipping from his open wound without notice.

He didn't feel any more pain: only blinding rage.

His badly beaten arms wrapped around the wailing Nomu's head. A rotating blade bit into one of his legs - he didn't have the mental capacity to discern which one - but he didn't let go.

Eraser started to twist the beast's head, overcome by a hysterical strength as images of blond hair and emerald eyes slipped from his world.

Soon, the only colour was red.

The Nomu's head was ripped off completely by his bare hands.

Together, they collapsed to the bloodied floor, the Nomu dead and Eraser's own diminishing light not too far behind.

He tried to pull himself up, but his body no longer listened to him. One of his legs was completely gone. Eraserhead looked to the shattered pieces of his star, and found himself dizzily wondering why he cared so much for something so … cheap and tacky.

His red, red world was slipping into black, black, black.

The remaining Nomu backed off, and he heard footsteps approach, but he couldn't see anything anymore.

"Anything special you want me to add this time?" Father's Doctor.

"No, just repair him as usual. The others too. A shame our little Eraserhead had to get so broken, but I suppose he's been in worse condition before. I want you to add a neck protector to the Tool Arms Nomu when you fix it though."

"Don't worry, Nomu can be easily repaired, especially when the limbs are still here. What about that weird keychain? Want it fixed?"

"No… In fact, I think it's time we get rid of that hero for good. He's only a thorn in my side now. Let's send a Nomu after him."

"Which one?"

Eraserhead felt something press against his head: Father's shoe. "This one."

He finally blacked out.


	44. That Bar

Chapter Forty-Four

That Bar

"If you love me, let me go,

Back to that bar in Tokyo,

Where the demons from my past,

Leave me in peace."

\- Tokyo (Vampires & Wolves) (The Wombats)

Hizashi sat on the empty stage, carefully tuning his old guitar. A long time ago, villains and thugs from all walks of life had come to the bar to watch him sing, but those days were long gone. He didn't miss the grimy spotlight, but he missed the people who had watched him. Kurogiri had first brought him here when he'd only been fifteen, after his failure had been broadcast to the world, and he'd let the blond perform each week to help him settle.

Giran had never missed one of his shows either: he'd always sat at the bar, arranging business deals and the like. Sometimes the information broker had been busy, but he'd always been there.

After they'd gone, it was discovered that the lease had moved to Hizashi's name. His once adoring criminal audience had been flushed from the area, but he'd never been able to do anything with the place. For a moment he saw the hallucination again, of a dark void with a hand reaching out, but he blinked and it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Hizashi strummed the strings and allowed himself to smile at the familiar sound. The paint work had never been repaired from his early days, with a gash from a knife, and some chips from the warehouse collapse, but he felt no need to fix it up.

When he'd first become a hero, they'd forced him to revamp his image, so no more guitar. His mask was gone too, but… Beside him was a small case, the clasps firmly locked, and he went to pull out his phone to check on something, but was interrupted.

"We tracked the location," said a polite voice, and Hizashi looked up to see… no one. However, the sound of rummaging behind the bar told him where his visitor was busying himself. "I think you're right about Aizawa being the focal point for his Quirk."

Nezu crawled onto the counter, and Hizashi's lips stretched into a slight grin as he imagined what Kurogiri would've said upon seeing the rodent on his bar. "You found All for One's hideout?"

"No, but although we haven't had a pinpoint location to it, there's one place in the area that stands out…" Nezu sat on the front of the stage and wiped some dust from his suit. "I went myself to investigate and it seems-"

"Don't mean to interrupt, boss, but you should probably just tell me _where _it is you're talking about." Hizashi strummed lightly on the guitar strings. "We have a plan in the works. This is the most stable I've been since losing Sho, despite… everything recently. I can take it."

"I was almost positive it came from the old safe house," he said, catching Hizashi's attention. "I went to investigate, and there were signs someone had been there. There was some blood on your old pillow, several days old, so I brought it in to be tested."

"Sho's?"

Nezu paused to mull something over, but soon said, "Yes… but no. It was his blood, but there were some alarming changes compared to the sample we had on record from his school days."

Hizashi nodded and set the guitar to the side so he could take a place seated beside Nezu. "I don't regret taking Simon down," he said softly, "cause we got to save you. You're the only one we have who actually knows what it's like to be one of All for One's toys…"

"Yet you've never asked about it," Nezu said, kicking out his little legs. "I could lecture you, about how the one we end up saving might never be like the man we knew before all this, but I imagine you've been telling yourself that for years now." He lit a cigarette and offered it to Hizashi, but he turned it down.

"You were his toy too," Hizashi repeated, "but look at you now… You're my beacon of hope, yo. I know he won't be the same, but if you can overcome the things he did to you, maybe Sho has a chance too…"

"I'm glad I can be of such unintentional service," the principal said as he took a lengthy drag of the cigarette.

"I need to see his face…" He looked at his own reflection in the clasps of the small black case, heavily distorted by the convex surface. "When I first saw you, I looked into your eyes too. I didn't just see a scared animal in a cage: I saw intelligence. You could say I saw a soul staring back at me, if ya wanna get poetic, and that's what I need to see in Shouta's… One look at his face, and I'll know if I can bring him back."

"...And you were the first one to ever ask for my name." The principal kicked his feet out and smiled nostalgically at the empty bar. "And when I offered my services in exchange for my life… you refused. Well, I've kept my end of the bargain, Present Mic." Nezu pulled the cigarette from his mouth and closed his eyes. "I've never been tangled up in villains since those days."

Hizashi flipped open the black case at last, and slick metal stared back at him. "I guess sometimes it's good to do something heroic."

-x-

Time dragged by slowly as Present Mic waited for Eraserhead to resurface. If he and Toshinori hadn't called off the wedding, it would've come and gone, but he was too focused on school and on tinkering in his lab to pay attention to the public's response. From memory, All Might had told the public something about them being too stressed under the recent events of UA and wanted all their focus to be on the students rather than romantic pursuits.

A lot _did _happen during that time that he _did _pay attention to, however.

The Hero Killer was successfully brought down and captured at long last. The media said it was Endeavour, but Toshinori told him it was really Midoriya, Todoroki and Iida. That last name had brought the most mixed emotions: a brother avenging a brother.

If Present Mic and Vlad King had taken Stain down, it would've never led to that, but he knew better than most how impossible it was to change the past. Tensei was still in hospital, but there was talk of a release day, and already the group were planning for a games night that was potentially months away.

However, with Stain taken down, his twisted ideologies were spread before the mass media for all to hear. He spoke of pro-heroes who did not deserve the title: people who only saved others for fame and fortune. Surely Present Mic would've fallen into one of those two categories, had he not been All-Might's apparent 'chosen one'.

If All-Might was the Symbol of Peace, then to Stain, Present Mic was the Symbol of Redemption.

Hosu had experienced further drama at the hands (claws) of more Nomu monsters. Although they hadn't been as indestructible as the one at the USJ, they were difficult beasts to take down, and there was talk of Stain being linked to the League of Villains. Perhaps another SYN was flourishing in the shadows after all this time.

To make matters worse, Hizashi's shapeshifting healer had disappeared without warning, and finding him was simply impossible. He had left Hizashi a quick note informing him of his obligation to run, considering the current dangers in Japan. A powerful Quirk like his had to be hidden away from people like the League and All for One, and so he'd fled the country. If Hizashi needed healing, he'd have to rely on the imperfect Quirk of Recovery Girl.

Despite the villainous activity, there was no sign of Eraserhead, so the time had progressed with mundane exams… Well, except for the practical exams.

They'd had the classes pair off against the school teachers, and the time had been interesting and informative. The teacher had worn weights, and that alone had made Mic nostalgic as he recalled the tournaments from his Sports Festival.

Present Mic had been up against Jiro and Koda, but they'd taken advantage of his entomophobia to steal victory from his grasp (although it was well deserved). The fight he'd been most interested in was Shinsou's. Since there were twenty-one students, he'd had to pair with a random student who'd already lost their match.

He'd been paired up with Kaminari, and together they'd fought against Vlad King. It had been a close match up, with the blond student losing _again _by over using his electricity Quirk, and Shinsou had lost too since Vlad already knew not to respond to him, so his Brainwashing couldn't activate. Hizashi promised he'd develop him something to help Shinsou achieve his full potential in future.

With that, Term 1 came to a close, and the school holidays began, although Present Mic was never completely free. At least his hallucinations had finally stopped for good. He'd thought about potentially going to the upcoming summer camp with the two hero classes, led by Nemuri and Sekijiro, but when he'd asked them if they felt it necessary, they'd grown uncharacteristically disheartened.

"Sorry Zaza," Nemuri said as she pet him on the back, "but we're keeping it as small and tight as possible. We… were specifically told that we couldn't talk to you about it."

Right, that made sense. He was the ex-villain, after all, and there was still all that talk that he'd potentially arranged everything with the USJ, despite his near-death experience. He'd told them he didn't mind, that it would at least help UA's image. Nothing would go wrong.

It did.

While he was in his lab, putting the final touches on his plan, his students had been fighting for their very lives against the League of Villains. None had been killed, but Bakugou had been kidnapped.

The backlash on UA was devastating, and of course Present Mic's name was often thrown around. What sort of school would hire an ex-villain…? They claimed he hadn't known the location, but of course that hadn't settled the rumours. Hizashi was long past caring about his reputation - that could be repaired _after _he saved Shouta - but the reputation of the school was another matter.

Even so, they weren't helpless, despite the situation. They'd found the League of Villains' hideout, and of course it was a new bar - Kurogiri was certainly in his element. Not only that, they'd also managed to find the place where Nomu were developed. Their plan was to capture Shigaraki, rescue Bakugou and destroy the production of Nomu once and for all. There was a chance that All for One would get flushed out of hiding, and along with him…

Eraserhead was certain to make an appearance.

-x-

The streets were busy at this time of night, but Hizashi had expected that. As he walked, he held his head high, but managed to go by without being recognised. Overhead, the sky was dark with night, yet the lights of the glowing city meant no stars could be seen. The giant screens were typically covered with adverts, but today something different stared down at the scene, and Hizashi stopped to watch.

On the screen were Nemuri, Nezu and Sekijiro, all dressed in formal business attire as they were interviewed about the recent events. Of course, Hizashi Yamada knew it was a diversion, to make the enemy believe they were helpless while they set up their three different ambush locations, but the audience around him didn't know that. The tension was palpable.

_"You spoke about keeping the students safe, Midnight," _said one of the journalists on the screen. _"But according to our information, you encouraged them to fight on the training camp, thereby putting them in grave danger. What was your reasoning for this?"_

_"Villains don't hold back, even against children,"_ she said, her tone level headed. _"I feared if the students weren't at least given the chance to defend themselves, the events of the camp would've been dire."_

_"Dire? Wouldn't you already call this a 'dire' outcome? A child was kidnapped under your supervision, and twenty-seven were injured. Sounds dire to us."_

_"The situation could have been worse. Every student could have been killed without being able to defend themselves."_

The camera swapped to Nezu as he went on to talk about the situation, but Hizashi was distracted by his buzzing phone. He pulled it from his back pocket and glanced at the screen. Instantly, his heart began to hammer in his chest, in time with the small blipping light that had appeared. _'In Range' _read the small automatic message.

After all this time, Shouta was back.

Back in Hosu, his phone had managed to tab into the frequency of Eraserhead's tracker, thanks to their chance encounter, and this assurance meant their plan was a go. The small dot was so close, yet so far, and he quickly estimated where the villain was.

Shouta must've been hidden in the sea of people - it was too close to be on one of the surrounding buildings. At least the dot had stopped moving, so there must've been too many people around for Eraserhead to make a move.

He glanced at the screen, where the three were still talking in the interview, and Hizashi knew he couldn't make a move yet either, as much as he wanted to move the plan forward. Instead, he was quick to send out a message on his phone, to let his side know about Eraserhead's whereabouts.

On the screen, Nemuri was asked about Bakugou and whether the student would be swayed to the side of villainy, and it caught Hizashi's attention more than anything else, for at the end the reporter added a personal jab. _"How can you be so sure he won't become a villain, especially since once of his teachers, Present Mic, used to be one? How do you know __**he **__isn't behind this attack?"_

He knew how ludicrous the question was.

Bakugou wasn't weak like Hizashi had been when SYN had approached him. His student would've rather died than become a villain, and Present Mic was proud of that knowledge.

Nemuri stood up, and Hizashi almost wanted her to lose her temper, but she remained calm as she bowed. _"Katsuki Bakugou is my responsibility. He is a passionate, hot-tempered student, but if these villains believe they can sway him, they are mistaken. Bakugou wishes to become a hero, and nothing the League of Villains can do will possibly sway him from that road. I can also assure you that Present Mic has long since redeemed himself."_

_"Are you saying all villains should be offered the chance at redemption? Even this League of Villains?"_

Nezu was the one to speak up. _"If a villain's crimes are forgivable, and they are genuinely remorseful, should they not be able to re-enter society and pursue a career they feel passionately about? If you disagree with this, then you are disagreeing with not just villains, but the criminal system as a whole. Life sentences are rare occurrences. If you recall the USJ Incident, you would know why Present Mic should not be involved in this case at all. He has saved more people than he has ever harmed, and he will continue to help those in need until he can't anymore."_

The topic moved on. Hizashi swallowed as he ignored the mixed murmurs around him. Yes, he'd continue to save people, and Shouta would be the next. He glanced at his phone to find the blip hadn't moved, but he didn't make himself look away from the screen, as desperate as he was to see Shouta again.

Now it was a waiting game. The plan relied on Eraserhead trying to take him again, but if he could just lead him _there_, then it would be action time.

The interviews soon ended, but he didn't move until he received a message from Nemuri:** [****_You ready to party?]_**

He swallowed and sent back a microphone emoji, before putting the phone away completely. Hizashi looked up at the sky and for just a moment he thought he could see the stars through the dazzling lights, but then he was moving.

His senses warned him he was being followed, and although the idea of being stalked like prey didn't bode well for his instincts, he pretended to be oblivious to the predator as he led him towards the ambush location:

The old bar.


	45. Shattered

Chapter Forty-Five

Shattered

"It was a wicked and wild wind,

Blew down the doors to let me in.

Shattered windows and the sound of drums:

People couldn't believe what I'd become."

\- Viva la Vida (Coldplay)

Eraserhead followed the target through the infested streets, his mind set on only one goal:

Kill Present Mic.

Of course, Father didn't want him to make a scene of it, so he was patient in waiting, waiting, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

That moment came sooner than he'd expected as the blond man turned into an alleyway. It was suspicious, but as he activated his full Erasure Quirk, he was able to peer through the nearby cameras. None showed the blond. In fact, the others around were void of life entirely, unless they were aimed at the streets.

Good, no cameras where the target was. He'd make this as quick as he could and go to Father to celebrate his success.

He deactivated his Quirk and pulled the eyepatch from his left eye, just as someone bumped into him. The businesswoman murmured some apology without looking up from her phone, but he was too busy restraining his murderous instinct to get a good look at her.

Insolent bug… No, no, no: he had a mission, and the random woman wasn't his target.

Eraserhead let the businesswoman walk away so he could slip into the alleyway and pull on his mask and capture weapon in one fluid motion.

Something about the area seemed familiar, as if he'd once seen this place in a dream, but he didn't dwell on the trivial as he noticed a door close nearby.

There.

He trailed up the small flight of steps and tried the handle, but it was locked. That wouldn't stop him though as he threw his shoulder against it, no longer caring about the element of surprise. With that one thrust, the door splintered open, rocking on its hinges as he entered.

The room was dark, but it was clean and tidy, with no furniture to fill up the space. It wasn't especially big, but quite a few people could've fit inside. The walls had a strange gleam to them, but he didn't pay attention to that insignificant detail.

At the end of the room was a curtain, which no doubt hid a stage behind its rough cotton veil. There was no sign of his target, but there was another door that read 'Staff Only' to the side. Eraserhead stepped towards it, but was stopped by a voice.

"_[Woah baby,] _can't you read? Staff only!"

Eraser turned to the stage, just as the red curtains parted to reveal his target. He'd had a complete costume change since moving through the streets only moments ago.

Now he wore a leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up around his elbows. His neck was covered by a large speaker, but he wore several more on a belt around his waist. His face was hidden beneath triangular lenses, heavy headphones and a metal beaked mask. The lower half of the mask's jaw was unhinged, revealing a mouth full of white teeth and a small moustache beneath. His blond hair was long and impossibly tall, and his gloves looked of identical design to his.

His target appeared unarmed, although he held an electronic guitar at the ready.

Although his Erasure was focused on the target, he appeared strangely unaffected. Mic's mouth stretched into an even wider grin and he righted his orange specs like nothing was amiss. Eraserhead drew a knife and stepped towards his target, planning to end this as quickly and efficiently as possible.

The lights of the small bar flickered off without warning. He heard the metal scrape of old curtains closing. "_[It's show time, Dearest Listener.]"_

Dark smoke filled the room, followed by flashing lights of red, blue and green that made Eraserhead momentarily dazed.

A rush of red reached from his right, but Eraser dodged and forced himself forward, deeper into the room and smoke. He turned to get a view of his attacker, only to hear the door slam shut behind him. No one was there.

The lights kept changing, flashing against his eyes to offer a disturbing sense of vertigo.

His attacker was too lost in smoke for his Quirk to work, but the rush of red had given away their identity: Vlad King. However, he was distracted by the sound of an electric guitar and a voice that shook him to his very core.

_"[It kills me not to know this, but I've all but just forgotten, what the colour of your eyes were, and your scars or how you got them,]"_ sang Present Mic, his Quirk not yet active. This could get dangerous if he let this continue.

Eraserhead leapt away from another red pillar and beelined directly for the stage, although finding it through the cloud of smoke was a different matter entirely. As he rushed through the vapours, the voice continued.

_"[As the telling signs of age rain down, a single tear is droppin', through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten~…]_"

He reached the stage, just as the guitar picked up. From beyond the curtain he heard the strings, and Eraser didn't waste any time in tearing them down. Thick folds of red ripped from the rusty ceiling beams. They dropped with a heavy thud and the cloud of smoke dissipated around the stage, leaving an eye of clarity in the storm.

Present Mic stood at the centre of the platform, with smoke billowing as he continued to play the guitar without hesitation. Despite Eraserhead's close proximity, the man was too caught up by his playing to run.

The spotlights turned on Eraser, like an expectant audience, blinding him with their glare. For just a moment he was in the middle of a stadium, and the rock of the guitar was muffled by cries of disdain.

However, whatever was broaching on his consciousness was wiped out by the sound of something real slicing the air. Eraser turned just in time to avoid a blade of blood. His free hand instantly reached up, snared the crimson weapon and squeezed, crushing the crystallised Quirk like glass.

Despite the attack, Vlad King himself had yet to appear - even so, he wasn't Eraser's target anyway. The villain turned back to the stage as the lyrics resumed.

"_[There is no reconciliation that will put me in my place,]_" Mic sang, the words bouncing harmlessly around the room… Wait… _"[And there is no time like the present, to drink these draining seconds.]"_

His Erasure Quirk _wasn't affecting him_!

Eraserhead wasted no time. He threw his blade at the target, and his target didn't even dodge.

_"[But seldom do these words ring true,]"_ sang the hero, even as the knife sunk squarely into his chest, but… _"[When I'm constantly failing you…]"_ From the knife wound did not emerge blood: instead there were _sparks. "[With walls that we just can't break through,]_" he continued as spider-like lines spread across the air, like a wall of shattered glass. _"[Until we disappear…]"_

The screen flickered and turned black.

Wait… _What_?

The floor trembled. The voice of Present Mic grew louder and louder from all directions.

_"[So tell me now, if this ain't love then how do we get out?]" _The walls suddenly stretched towards the heavens, dragging the fog away from the room's centre, where a platform rose from the ground. Atop the new stage was a silhouette, with all but their shadowed outline consumed by a waterfall of smoke. In their hands was a guitar. _"['Cause I don't know!]"_ The walls of the building flickered too, until every surface was a television screen with Present Mic swathed across it, his guitar at the ready and a grin flashing beneath the bird mask.

Eraserhead activated his full Erasure, but there were zero cameras in the nearby vicinity. _What? _There _had _been cameras in the streets when he'd first entered the building! Had they all been destroyed?

Whatever theory he'd been trying to cobble together was instantly unimportant as the chorus started and Present Mic's Quirk nearly sent him flying.

_"[__**That's when he said, 'I don't HATE YOU, boy, I just want to SAVE YOU, while there's still something LEFT TO SAVE!']"**_

Eraserhead's feet skidded across the floor. His scarlet lenses cracked. He covered his ears, his mind shaken from the point-blank Voice Quirk. The sound echoed from all directions. Hot warmth leaked from his ears and ran down his neck, but there was no relenting in the agony.

**_"[That's when I told him, 'I LOVE YOU, boy, but I'm not the ANSWER for the questions that YOU STILL HAVE!' WOAH~! WOAH~!]"_**

The lyrics slipped into the guitar and the visions of Present Mic shredded away. Eraser's gaze was blurry as more warmth rolled from his ears and the room vibrated with nausea. The lights beamed in his eyes - onslaughts of red, green and blue - and he thought he felt a cold wind whip over him. For a moment, he wasn't in the giant cage, surrounded by visions of his target: he was on a rooftop with a large metal cube across from him.

**_"_**_[But the days pressed on like crushing weights,]" _continued his enemy, with no Quirk involved. _"[For no man does it ever wait.]" _Eraser approached the cube as he pulled a new dagger from his belt. Smoke billowed around him as he moved, and for a moment he thought it was the work of smoke bombs rather than smoke machines. _"[Like memories of dying days,]" _sang the voice, the images continuing to play without pause, _"[that deafen us like hurricanes!]"_

Vlad King hadn't reappeared. He was probably hidden away somewhere the voice couldn't reach him.

_That _Enemy didn't matter anyway. His targe was atop the new platform. Eraser had to reach him.

_"[Bathed in flames we held the brand, uncurled the fingers in your hand,]" _continued the voice without hesitation. Eraserhead partially unravelled his thorned scarf from around his neck and flung it upwards, to wrap it around his target and tear them down. However, moments before it could reach, a wall of red exploded from just below the highest platform. His thorned scarf struck, but rebounded off the solid crystal.

Where _was _Vlad King?

_"[Pressed into the flesh like sand,]" _Mic sang as the screens around Eraser flickered with static. "_[Now do you understand?]"_

That was when the screens changed.

Instead of Present Mic rocking his guitar, some showed helicopter footage of a fight scene atop a building, with a metal cube. It wasn't the only shift though: many showed a stadium with a cement stage at its centre, where two young children fought for supremacy...

Well, it wasn't much of a fight as the dark-haired child kicked the blond one around with zero restraint, and Present Mic's voice kicked back in. _"[So tell me now, if this ain't love, then how do we get out?]_" The wall of crystallized blood above crumbled without warning. The pieces fell like hail, all aimed at Eraser, and he did his best to avoid the solid chunks. _"['Cause I don't know~]"_

However, one of the crimson pieces flew back up from the floor and latched directly onto his mask. He tried to pull it off, but then the voice Quirk resumed.

**_"[That's when he said,_**_'__**I DON'T HATE YOU, boy, I just want to SAVE YOU while there's still something LEFT TO SAVE!']"**_

The frequency of this attack was different. It didn't mess with his head as much as the previous one, but he felt it vibrate his mask… No, it vibrated the _crystal _on his mask, and-

Beside his foot, one of the clumps burst like a shrapnel grenade, sending sharp shards in all directions. The edges cut into his clothes and sliced his skin. They stung, but the pain was nothing, and the damage was minimal, except...

**_"[That's when I told you,_**_'__**I LOVE YOU, boy, but I'm not the ANSWER for the questions that YOU STILL HAVE!]**__"_

The crystal on his mask exploded.

The force rocked his body, although his footing remained firm. His mask's round crimson lenses completely shattered with the shrapnel, leaving his eyes uncovered. Through the searing spotlights, he came face to face with a wall of Present Mics, all rocking away on guitars…

This was so _wrong. _Mic was fighting alongside the _Enemy._

The image of he and the blond standing back to back on a speaker-lined stadium flashed through his mind.

But… _why?_

_Guess we're ready for our big showdown, baby, unless you're planning to go traitor on me?_

Pain resonated through his head, far sharper than the shrapnel that'd sliced his body. Hot blood rolled down his face. His right eye burned, burned, burned. He couldn't _see _from it. Above the fogged scene, Present Mic's silhouette continued to play.

_"[One thousand miles away, there's nothing left to say, but so much left that I don't know…]"_

More blood blurred his vision, and he couldn't quite blink or rub it away. Was his eye damaged by the shrapnel? It didn't matter - he could see perfectly with the left.

His thorned scarf unravelled again and floated about his shoulders, but this time he threw his entire body forward. Eraser's boot cracked the first screen as he propelled himself up into the air, hurling the length at the silhouette once again. He noticed another wall of red form overhead from somewhere unseen, but not before he saw something peculiar…

The smoke trickled _through _Present Mic.

All around, the screens barraged him with a peculiar picture that made his mind turn temporarily blank.

It was of two young boys sitting beneath a cherry blossom tree. They wore matching uniforms, although their expressions were vastly different: one grinned like nothing could go wrong, while the other appeared displeased to be pulled so close.

_It's a promise, Sho. Let's take a photo to commemorate it!_

_"[We never had a choice, this world has too much noise! It takes me under…]"_

Eraserhead's body moved of its own accord. His boot slammed against the closest screen. Sparks flew as the image of the cherry blossoms caved _inwards_.

_"[It takes me under once again.]"_

Realisation struck as the crystal wall above crumbled into more future shrapnel grenades. The podium in the middle of the room was _hollow _and the Present Mic above was-

Eraserhead wrapped his capture weapon around two crystal spheres and flung them at the pink screens. Before they could smash the images, they _liquified_. Blood sprayed across the two boys and ran down, colouring the falling cherry blossoms like crimson prison bars.

_"[I don't hate you~]"_

Vlad King had fallen for it. The podium was hollow and the Blood Quirk didn't want it harmed, so that could only mean one thing:

His target was inside.

_"[I don't hate you, no~]"_

Eraser's boot touched down on the ground, but only rested there momentarily as he sprung himself forward, forward, forward, towards the blushing faces. The screen held momentarily as he smashed against it, but then gave way.

_"[So tell me now, if this ain't love, then how do we get out? Cause I don't-]"_

Electricity tore through his body, but compared to the shocks Father dosed him with as punishment, these were harmless. His assumption was correct: the podium was hollow. The music _stopped._

However, Present Mic wasn't inside.

Instead, Eraser came face to face with Vlad King and a white rodent wearing a suit. Both wore gasmasks over their faces and thick headphones over their ears. All around them were flashing lights, and dials and switches, and he could see directly through the walls. It was obvious what this was then: a control centre full of two-way screens. They'd been able to watch him without cameras.

No Present Mic… However, these two could help draw him out.

He stepped towards his new prey, but before he could even raise his knife, he was stopped by a voice from behind.

_"[I don't hate you, boy,"]_ sang a rough voice. A guitar played alongside it, but the sound was far softer than the earlier roaring. He could hear the real fingers on the strings_. "[I just want to save you, while there's still something left to save…]"_

Present Mic had willingly lost his final chance to use his devastating Voice Quirk: the true cost of having allies within a blast radius.

Eraserhead turned to face his living, breathing target.

Well, now minus the breathing part.

_That's when I told you, 'I love you, boy, but I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have._

The walls hadn't _actually _stretched: the floor had lowered. The stage where the real Present Mic stood was now above him, the ruined red curtains desperately clinging to the ledge.

_I don't hate you~_

The screen beside the real Mic sparked where the knife had struck earlier, but it was turned to reveal a back area behind it, where his target had been hidden the entire time.

_I don't hate you~_

Some of the screens continue the pre-recorded footage of him rocking away, despite the muted music.

The man _hadn't _had time to change. He wore civilian clothes and his long blond hair hung messily around his shoulders. He was wearing the bird mask and orange specs and headphones, but the lower jaw of the beak was shut so his mouth was hidden. The large speaker covered his neck as well, and although his breathing had stopped, his fingers continued to play the guitar. The gloves looked identical to Eraser's.

_I don't hate you~_

_I don't hate you, no~_

His target was out of hiding and out of tricks.

Good.

Eraserhead would make his Father proud.


	46. Remember

Chapter Forty-Six

Remember

"For years and years,

I chased their cheers,

The crazy speed of always needing more:

But when I stop,

And see you here,

I remember who all this was for."

\- From Now On (The Greatest Showman)

Although he was on the stage, Present Mic was bathed in shadow, unbreathing, while Shouta was circled by a ring of spotlights below.

At first, everything had been going according to plan: Nemuri's 'swap' had been flawless, and Eraser had been successfully distracted by the chaos and the smoke and the hologram above.

How do you fight someone with inhuman strength and reflexes?

If you can help it, you _don't._

They'd caged him instead.

But then everything had gone awry. They'd given Nemuri the task of 'the swap', believing her Quirk wouldn't work on Eraserhead for the same reason Vlad's Quirk hadn't in Hosu, but even the strong non-Quirk-based anaesthesia they'd been pumping into the room hadn't affected him in the _slightest_.

What had All for One _done _to Shouta?

Hizashi'd hoped the screen images would've been enough to draw the _real _man out, but before they'd thought up another plan, Eraserhead had discovered Nezu and Sekijiro in the control centre. While Mic hadn't wanted to put his friends in a secondary cage, they had both volunteered for it. Nezu had overseen the screens, the lights and the smoke machines, and he'd needed a clear view of Shouta from all sides _without _the use of cameras to ensure that. The two-way flat screens had been expensive, but necessary.

They'd agreed together: if they had to break Shouta to save him from the brink, then they'd break him. Hizashi watched the blood run down his ex-lover's right eye, but although the lenses were shattered, he could see nothing clearly beneath. The rest of the mask remained. Hizashi _had _to see Shouta's face.

Was there even a trace of Sho left?

There was so much Mic needed to say, but with those eyes on him he couldn't even breathe. His lungs were full, at least, and he was ready to fight.

How do you physically fight someone with inhuman strength and reflexes?

With everything you have.

Present Mic's foot hit against a panel, hidden within the flooring of the stage. Dark smoke billowed around him, but Eraserhead wasn't ready to lose sight of his _prey. _The villain leapt from the floor below and raised his weapon high. He was close enough to touch. Mic lifted his guitar in time to catch the knife that'd been intended for his chest.

Last time he'd fought Eraserhead head-to-head like this, the knife had annoyingly gouged through the paint job. This time, it buried deep into the guitar. The abrupt force of the blow was enough to jar his legs, but he wasn't ready to surrender.

Present Mic was a pro-_fucking_-hero.

Shouta loomed over him. It took all the strength Hizashi had to stay standing. His body shook from the effort of holding back only one of Shouta's inhumanely powerful arms. With his elbow, Mic flipped a switch on his guitar. Lights blazed across it. Even though the knife was still imbedded and Eraserhead's free hand was reaching for him, Hizashi didn't hesitate. His fingers strummed the strings.

The roar was deafening.

The sheer force of the sound waves was enough to send them both flying in opposite directions. Hizashi was cushioned by the stage's cloth backdrop, while Eraserhead was flung into several screens. Electricity sparked as his body broke through and tumbled into the control room below. Thankfully Vlad and Nezu were no longer there.

Mic inhaled as deeply as he could. He wanted to scream his lungs raw, to bring the building down on Eraser if that would be enough to save him, but-

Someone grabbed Hizashi and hauled him to his feet. For a moment he thought it was Shouta, but the shape was too bulky. His unasked question about the whereabouts of his friends was answered as Vlad King helped steady him. Nezu was there too, righting Hizashi's leg and guiding him to centre stage.

"The gas didn't work," Vlad said, voice distorted by the mask he wore. His tone wasn't accusatory. "What's the backup plan?"

"We could always try electrocution," Nezu suggested. The electricity of the screens hadn't fazed Eraser, but that didn't automatically discredit Nezu's suggestion. Hizashi nodded and turned the power of his electrified gloves to their maximum output: the watts were surely enough to kill an ordinary man, but…

Eraserhead wasn't an ordinary man.

"Nezu," Hizashi said while he could, "time for the plan 'Rats in the Walls'. Keep the images coming. Vlad and I'll wear him down physically, so then we can snap him back, yo."

Nezu nodded at the plan and hurried into the backstage area, pulling the smashed screen behind him. It clicked into place, safely securing the principal in the hidey hole. Mic swallowed and turned down the volume of his guitar. Next time, the force from his Directional Speaker wouldn't be as devastating, but at least he'd stay standing.

Sekijiro scanned Hizashi up and down. "You okay?"

"No," he said as he rolled his shoulders and held his guitar at the ready. "He interrupted my song."

The two stood tall, side by side, as the figure below pulled themselves from the sparking control panel. All the screens shifted to static and the smoke curled around the monstrous man.

A single red eye stared up at them from the darkness. Present Mic's breath caught in his throat, but he allowed nothing to show, even beneath his mask.

"Maybe if we're lucky," Vlad King murmured, his voice muffled beneath his breathing apparatus, "the knock-out gas will kick in." Vlad waited, as if expecting the voiceless Hizashi to reply, before he added, "Suppose this is better. Still haven't forgiven him for stabbing me in Hosu."

Mic nodded and wrenched the knife from the front of his guitar. It was heavy in his fingers, especially when he slipped it under his shirt and sliced along each of his biceps. Hizashi didn't flinch at the pain: his pain threshold wasn't what it'd once been, but it was still there.

Hot blood quickly stained his shirt, and he stored the dripping knife into his belt. They were ready.

The heroes didn't need to jump down to meet their enemy, for Eraser was quick to haul himself back onto the stage. The static screens flashed and resumed their images of helicopter fights and warehouse collapses and Sports Festivals, but Hizashi's lungs remained stiff and unresponsive. Although Vlad was with him, Present Mic was the target.

Lines of barbed scarf lifted from Shouta's shoulders, and flew directly for Hizashi, but a powerful strum from his guitar was enough to deflect them in the air. His feet skidded slightly on the stage, but the power was a far cry from the earlier backlash.

Although Eraser's current capture weapon was different in many ways to the original, it was based on Hizashi's design. It was strong, but light, even with the spikes. If anything, the barbed additions only messed with the surface area. Rookie mistake.

With the weapon failing him, Eraser dashed forward to attack.

In his mind, Hizashi heard the words he'd said to a young boy in a stadium an entire lifetime ago: _Just look at me, Sho. Pretend no one else is around._

Eraserhead did just that as he lunged for Present Mic.

The two heroes moved in perfect sync.

Hizashi strummed his guitar. While it wasn't enough to send the villain flying this time, the twin spires of red that shot from his bleeding biceps were another story. Not only that, but a thick lance of crystallized blood lunged for Eraserhead's unguarded side.

In the split second the attack was launched, Shouta's reaction was logical: his attention turned towards the Blood hero. While it might've been a good idea in a solo fight, Eraserhead was fighting _two _opponents.

**_"_****_[_****_ALL ABOARD~!]" _**Present Mic yelled with his quirk. The soundwaves slammed into Eraserhead, clearly catching him off-guard. He must've accidentally lost sight of Vlad too, for the three lances of blood didn't fade away as they all lunged for the villain.

Red sprayed through the air. Hizashi thought the attacks had landed, but instead it was _their _blood that'd dropped. Eraserhead must've managed to land his Quirk on Vlad at the last moment, but that didn't stop the strong hero from grabbing the villain and hurling him from the stage while he was off-guard.

Shouta hit more screens, but in the blur, they'd missed a crucial detail. Hizashi's leg gave out in front of him. He hit the boards backwards, the oxygen flying from his lungs as he was winded. The capture weapon around his ankle dragged him towards the edge of the stage.

Although the spikes didn't pierce the leather of his thick boots, the pressure bit uncomfortably into his ankle. Vlad King leapt off the stage, targeting Eraserhead with his fist. Now in a solo fight, the villain easily grabbed Vlad's wrist before the punch landed. Alone, the Blood Hero stood no chance…

But he wasn't alone. Although he was out of breath, Present Mic was far from finished.

He used his free foot to roll himself up, just as he welcomed weightlessness. He fell from the stage, face forward, directly above Eraserhead. Hizashi painfully inhaled while Shouta's Quirk was focused on Vlad King and he flipped up his guitar.

**_"_****_[VIBE CHECK~!]"_** Shouta recoiled at the voice, meaning he had no chance to dodge the swing of Hizashi's guitar. His attack hit, which _really _made Eraser _literally _recoil. However, a swing that should've been enough to knock a normal human unconscious only gave them a few seconds to recover.

Thanks to the hit, Vlad was able to wrench his fist free, but Eraserhead was already moving. There was a glint of titanium in the overhead lights. The blade of the knife struck Kan square in the torso, but…

The blade didn't puncture his suit. It skidded off, undoubtedly bruising the hero, but that was better than the alternative.

Both Hizashi and Kan leapt away from Eraserhead, although that was easier said than done for the former: his ankle was still ensnared. The villain wasn't at all perturbed by the strong material Hizashi had woven into Vlad's armour. In one fluid motion, Eraser wrapped his empty hand around the barbed scarf and wrenched Present Mic towards him, the red glow of his remaining eye unmoving.

Once more, he was the prime target.

Hizashi tried to stay standing, but Shouta was _strong. _However, before he fell, the screens flickered to a familiar scene: a warehouse collapsing.

The force around his ankle paused and for a single moment he could breathe as Shouta's attention turned to the screens.

"Fight it!" Hizashi managed, but didn't put his Quirk into it. Vlad would be in the line of sound. "Let us _save _you!"

Eraserhead took a step back, but whatever had come over him vanished as quickly as it'd appeared… Or maybe not, for his next attack wasn't aimed at Hizashi. Perhaps their guard was lowered by the shift, because neither could react in time.

Eraser targeted Vlad King with his knife, but he didn't aim for his chest again: he aimed for his mask.

Sekijiro leapt away, but wasn't quick enough to completely dodge. The knife sliced through his mask.

Panicked, Hizashi swung at Eraserhead, using his guitar like a bat, but the villain slipped beneath the blow. Eraserhead lunged with the knife, aiming for Hizashi's chest.

Mic lifted a hand, an automatic response to the attack, and he managed to keep it from burying in his chest, but…

The blade skewered completely through his palm. Sparks coursed harmlessly from the broken taser glove. His fingers automatically locked around Shouta's fist.

Better a hand than his heart.

Thankfully Vlad King wasn't done just yet. Blood leapt from Hizashi's wound and latched onto the villain's face, where it instantly crystallised: a perfect shrapnel grenade. Oxygen flooded Hizashi's lungs as Eraser's eye was covered, and the hero went to scream-

His breath caught in his throat, but not because of the Erasure Quirk. The screens around him flashed with soft pink images of fifteen years ago, of the photo that had been his phone screen for all this time. Hizashi hesitated.

He'd promised not to hold back, but...

"Shouta," he said, his voice taut as he strangled his own scream. "I _love _you."

Eraser's body stiffened. Had the words reached him?

Beyond the villain, Vlad was pulling himself to his feet, but he was sluggish. "Mic," managed the Blood Hero, "my mask…"

The breathing apparatus was broken. There was nothing protecting Vlad from the knockout gas they'd been pumping inside the building. Hizashi choked out a gasp as the knife was unceremoniously wrenched from his hand. Agony buzzed through him.

Eraserhead spun around. His boot connected directly with Vlad's mask. A cruel crack filled the air, and the Blood Hero fell back as his last line of defence was destroyed.

Hizashi noticed crimson running down Eraserhead's face as the blood crystal lost form. Vlad King was unconscious. Shouta turned back to his prey.

That was when Hizashi finally saw _it_: Shouta's left eye.

...He'd been _right_… Oh _god_, Sho...

His lungs stopped. His aching hand was forgotten. _No, no, no!_ He'd planned so much for this! They'd fought as a team! How could he have _lost?_

Shouta approached. Hizashi tried to back away, but his ankle was restrained by the capture weapon. He swung his guitar at his attacker, despite the pain in his left hand.

Eraserhead stopped the attack with his knife. The electronics tore. The strings snapped. The instrument was skewered on the bloody blade, as his hand had been less than a minute before. It slipped from Hizashi's shaking grip and Eraserhead threw the guitar away - knife and all.

No! Present Mic wasn't finished!

He pulled the stolen knife from his belt, his senses screaming for him to do _anything _to survive… But Eraserhead caught him by the wrist. The knife froze mid-strike.

But… He didn't _really _stop it. Shouta _moved_ the shaking blade. Instead of Eraserhead's shoulder, it was now aimed at Eraserhead's _throat_. Hizashi's chest violently wrenched. The world around them was pastel pink with pictures of two naive boys.

_From the perfect start…_

Shouta was giving him the opportunity to end everything now - the chance to end Eraserhead's suffering once and for all.

_To the finish line…_

This was the last shred of Shouta, pleading for freedom.

The blade pressed against his unguarded throat. The villain's sense of self-preservation kept him from ending himself - only Hizashi could do the deed now. It'd be so easy to press down and end this, but…

Hizashi wasn't _that _strong.

The knife clattered to the floor as Mic let go, unable to end his life. Tears burned his eyes.

The fight was over and Eraserhead was standing and the shred of Shouta was gone.

Eraserhead's other hand reached up. It slid beneath the Directional Speaker and wrapped around Hizashi's supple neck. His feet dangled off the ground.

Shouta was _strangling _him.

Shouta was _strangling_ him, just as All for One had done so long ago, in this exact same bar.

This time, however, Hizashi didn't fight it. This was the end...

He'd _lost…_

Except, he hadn't - he _wouldn't_. He'd save Shouta, even if it cost him everything. Hizashi grabbed Shouta's wrist with his undamaged hand.

His taser glove was on and set to its highest possible setting. If he shocked the villain, the hero'd be hurt too - no, he'd be _killed - b_ut Shouta would live. Shouta would be incapacitated and Nezu would save him and all of this would mean _something_.

Hizashi would lose, but he'd win all the same.

Hizashi Yamada was dying anyway, so this was the best he could do against his Villain.

The screens flickered 'til all showed the same view, although Mic didn't recognise the footage. Buildings had been reduced to smoking rubble. At the epicentre of the destruction stood two other warriors, both similarly fighting with everything they had:

All-Might and All for One.

Eraserhead stilled, and Hizashi heard a single word emerge from his attacker. "_Father."_

Moments later, Present Mic was on the floor, coughing and inhaling as much oxygen as he could. He noticed something above him, and when he glanced up he saw Eraserhead leaping up the screens, towards the ceiling. Shouta was trying to escape.

Nezu was a genius and Hizashi was devastated.

Mic pulled himself to his feet, his body swaying. His neck would be bruised tomorrow, but Shouta hadn't crushed his windpipe. If he'd been alone, he might've screamed. The place would collapse, but at least it would take he and Shouta out together. However, Vlad and Nezu were too important to risk.

Was this it then? He'd live, but he'd fail.

There was a tearing sound as Eraserhead slammed into the ceiling and broke through it with an inhuman desperation. Then he was gone, and all that was left was a tent of starless sky.

_You should've been stronger._

Hizashi's eyes burned and his chest constricted. His throat felt small, yet a sound escaped. At first he didn't even realise it'd emerged from his own throat, for the sound was so incoherent and animalistic.

Hizashi's wail of complete and utter defeat wasn't enough to bring the roof down, or enough to stop the escaping man, although it was enough to shatter the walls of screens as the sound travelled upwards. Glass shards rained down.

_Defeat..._

He'd _lost. _He'd _lost _and-

A second tearing sound subsumed Hizashi's wail.

Another hole appeared in the ceiling above, and from it emerged a dark silhouette. They fell fast, with no ability to grab hold of anything - not even with the scarf that trailed behind them. Eraserhead's body cut completely through the floor and smashed into the subterranean basement below, sending chunks of cement down with him. Dust and smoke forced Mic's long hair back, and unshed tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

_What?_

From nowhere emerged a black vortex that devoured the ceiling, revealing several silhouettes standing above. For a moment he thought it was Kurogiri's Warp Gate, but…

No, Hizashi recognised that Quirk, and it _wasn't _Warp Gate. He didn't let himself hope until he recognised the shape of the hero, Thirteen, among the group.

"I've wanted to do that for a _long _time!" called a voice Hizashi was all too familiar with, and he recognised one of the other silhouettes above - a silhouette bulked by heavy mechanical armour. Power Loader!

It finally dawned on him who the people were: Power Loader, Thirteen, Snipe, Cementoss and Ectoplasm.

The other U.A. teachers? Why were they-

Nezu _was _a _fucking_ **_genius._**

The ground in front of Hizashi quaked as Eraserhead pulled himself from the basement. Dust covered his black costume, and his mask now lay around his neck. Mic might've used his Quirk on him, had Vlad King not been unconscious in his voice's line of fire.

He was ignored by the villain. His Erasure was focused above and Hizashi could see his ex-lover's teeth gritted in aggravation. His right eye was closed, damaged by the earlier blood-crystal shrapnel, while his left eye… The red glow from his left eye was _wrong. _Hizashi caught sight of a horrific scar...

Then Shouta was moving. His feet crunched against the broken screens, spraying more glass shards as he climbed towards his living obstacles. Present Mic had gone from being his prime target to being forgotten.

"Let's end this show," drawled Snipe as he spun his guns and fired several shots. Blood rained down as each hit landed, all aimed at Eraserhead's limbs, but even full of lead he didn't go down.

From the gap in the roof emerged six of Ectoplasm's clones. Four rushed for Shouta and grabbed hold of him, while the other two slipped by. One grabbed Vlad's unconscious body, while the other went to Hizashi.

"You okay?" questioned the clone.

Hizashi's throat ached, and his hand was numb from blood loss. Even so, he couldn't keep himself from grinning beneath his bird-mask. Thankfully the dispersing knockout gas had no effect on the clone.

"And they say teaching only has intrinsic rewards," Hizashi said, his croaky voice caught between a laugh and a sob.

They looked to Eraserhead above. He struggled against the clones, but his movements had noticeably slowed.

Power Loader leapt through the destroyed ceiling, the claw of his power armour dwarfing Eraserhead as he held it high. With the clones on the villain, there was no way he could dodge the attack. "STAY _DOWN_!"

As his mechanical claw met the villain, a pillar of solid cement rose from below, the work of Cementoss. Shouta's body hurled down to meet the spire, pulverising the cement as he crashed through it. The Ectoplasm clone grabbed Hizashi and lifted him into the air, just as the ground was destroyed by the devastating attack.

Clouds of dust covered the air, blocking out more than the smoke ever had. Was it over? Had Eraserhead been defeated? Was he down, or was he…?

They waited in dead silence as the clouds dispersed.

Eraserhead lay in the rubble, his body badly beaten. Blood dirtied the rocks around him, but he was still _moving. _He tried to pull his broken body up, but to no avail.

Hizashi felt sickened by the sight of victory.

The blond broke free from Ectoplasm and ran towards the struggling man. "Shouta…" he croaked softly as he collapsed to his knees in front of him. The teachers watched vigilantly, ready to move at a moment's notice.

Shouta reached for him, hair smothering his face, but the act was more desperate than hostile. It was as if he was trying to grab something, but his hand met empty air. With zero success, his arm collapsed uselessly to the floor. His struggle to stand was finally surrendered.

Hizashi placed his uninjured hand on top of Shouta's, careful to avoid activating the taser. At the simple touch, the villain's head flew up.

That wrong red eye was on him, framed by dirty black hair, and Hizashi's breath disappeared. However, he didn't recoil. The fight was over.

Hizashi's injured hand shakily rose as he pulled off his own mask and tossed it to the side. The knock-out gas had cleared out at last, although he wouldn't've been able to breathe it in anyway.

Even though he couldn't say anything to his lover, with the mask gone he was able to do one thing.

Despite the pain, Hizashi shakily signed at Shouta with his bloody left hand:

_I love you._

There was a flicker of static all around. Despite the deep cracks in the television screens and the missing shards of glass, a broken image appeared: All for One was taken away by officers and was placed into a high-security container.

All-Might stood at the forefront, his body shrunken in his unpowered form for the world to see. Blood stained his face, and his clothes were ragged from a hard-won fight.

_"__Meanwhile," _said the voice of a reporter across the speakers, _"All-Might and the other heroes are on high alert."_

Then All-Might shakily pointed at the camera, his arm bruised and beaten. It was enough to silence the woman as the world prepared for his words of wisdom.

_"__Now…" _he said, voice shaky but determined._ "Now it's your turn."_

Hizashi's eyes widened. A gasp escaped his lips, and he quickly turned back to Shouta. The villain was conscious, but he'd turned his gaze towards the screens. He'd failed his 'father'. There was no fight left in him.

Hizashi swallowed as emotion welled in his chest, and he removed his hand, but only so he could remove the taser glove. With it gone, he re-took Shouta's shaky hand and held onto it as tightly as he could.

"Shouta," Hizashi croaked as tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. The villain didn't look at him. Eraserhead pressed his face to the dirt as his consciousness wavered. Maybe he was simply imagining it, but for a moment he thought Shouta's hand gently squeezed back.

_Now it's your turn._

Hizashi knew the message wasn't directed at him, but it was meaningful all the same.

Shouta was once again in his grasp, thanks to his friends. Eight years ago, Shouta had saved Hizashi from All for One. Although they'd physically rescued Eraserhead from the Villain's clutches, there was no telling how victorious they'd be in saving his mind.

_Eraserhead_ was saved, but only Hizashi Yamada had any chance in truly saving Shouta Aizawa.

Now, it was Hizashi's turn.


	47. Homeward Guide My Heart

Chapter Forty-Seven

Homeward Guide My Heart

It was a victory, although Hizashi had to keep reminding himself of that, especially when he stared at Shouta's body beyond the glass, with an array of tubes leading into it. A heart monitor beeped away, but rarely did it differ from the steady pulse it'd rhythmically repeated since he'd first been brought to Tartarus: the maximum-security prison.

As promised, Recovery Girl had tried to heal Shouta of his injuries, but there was an issue: Quirks didn't work on his cells. Hizashi had feared as much when Vlad's Blood Quirk hadn't worked on him in Hosu. It was as if his body had its own version of the Erasure Quirk, although external forces still hurt him, like Hizashi's voice.

With no way to heal him with Quirks, they'd resorted to the old fashioned methods. It'd taken a lot just to keep him unconscious - apparently the amount of tranquilizer they'd injected him with would overdose a normal person.

Hizashi leaned against the two-way mirror, wishing he could be beside his rescued lover.

This was victory.

"Knew I'd find you here," said a soft voice. He glanced at the woman who'd entered, but couldn't find the energy to wave. "You look worse than he does," Nemuri said, her eyes falling on the bedridden man behind the unbreakable glass. "When'd you last sleep?"

He forced himself to grin, although the expression felt empty. "Who knows."

Hizashi expected a sharp critique on his life choices, but instead Nemuri silently leaned with him against the glass. It must've been ten whole minutes before she found the words to speak. "Nezu had the teachers on standby all along, in case things went south. Lucky for us."

He hummed in agreement, his eyes slipping shut, although the booming sound of the heart monitor was impossible to drown out. "We won…"

Although she hadn't been at the final fight, everything would've failed without Nemuri. The tracker Hizashi had imbedded into Shouta had long since been removed, but the fight in Hosu had given his phone the ample opportunity to sync with other signals, including the tracker All for One had put in Shouta's wrist – exactly where Giran had told him it would be.

You'll have to be quick with removing the tracker from his wrist; if something's noticed, Boss'll have Kuro teleport Eraser in using the tracker's location. Remove the tracker, ditch it, and hide him someplace safe.

Not only that, but Giran's other warning had been essential…

When you get 'im, make sure his left eye is covered at all times, unless you're sure your location can't be discovered by sight. I'll leave it to you techies to deal with. Oh, and stay away from cameras – even phone cameras.

Eraserhead's unblinking left eye… It wasn't really an eye anymore.

It was a camera.

Hizashi's stomach churned as he remembered the doctor's cold report.

"His left socket contained a cybertronic replacement eye made of the original then carefully linked with his body. It appears the eyelid was removed, and it's designed to constantly keep the Erasure Quirk active. We were able to remove it, but it was a difficult procedure. We've replaced it with a simple prosthetic to keep the socket from collapsing, but the nerves were damaged. You could build him a new eye, but there's no guarantee we'll be able to successfully link it to his optic nerves."

If the doctor had expected backlash, an argument that they should've left the cybertronic eye to retain Shouta's sight, he'd been mistaken. With it gone, Shouta's Erasure Quirk had been deactivated for the first time in who-knows-how-long.

Thankfully the damage they'd done to his right, human eye would heal with time. Without Giran's help, everything would've failed.

Nemuri's job during the fight had been to ensure none of the villains knew of Shouta's capture. Before Eraserhead had followed Mic into the alleyway, Nemuri had bumped into him without changing out of her suit from the interview. Her phone had been the catalyst for the plan to begin.

Hizashi and Nezu had hooked the phone into the signal of Eraserhead's tracker and camera, while also smothering the villain's signal. It'd taken days to co-ordinate, but everything had gone perfectly. The transition of both signals from Shouta to Nemuri's phone had been so smooth that the villains hadn't noticed, and the female hero had filmed throughout the city until long after Eraser's defeat and capture.

"They might be able to heal him," Hizashi said, his voice sounding more deflated than he'd intended. Maybe he should sleep, but… The heart monitor kept him awake. Not because of the sound, but because of the lack of it – how would he know Shouta Aizawa was alive if Hizashi was asleep? "With the eye gone, his Erasure's off. Might slowly turn it off over the rest of his body too… [Not sure though] ..."

Nemuri looked at him. There was pity on her face, although he didn't want to see it.

This was victory…

"Get some sleep," she said, voice as soft as her gaze. "I'll keep vigil." He shook his head, but his eyelids were slumping. "Sorry," she added. He wasn't sure what she was apologising for. The air smelled sweet as he fell asleep.

-x-

Ten days. It took ten days for Shouta to regain consciousness. Hizashi was tearing through his sick days haphazardly, but the school kept his classes covered.

Even then, Shouta's awakening did little to comfort him.

They'd managed some Quirk healing, but the Erasure Quirk was slow to fade, and nothing more could be done.

The tubes were gone, at least, and they'd stopped tranquilising him three days back. If Hizashi hadn't been listening to the same repetitive heart monitor for ten days straight, he might not have noticed the slightly quickened pace that pre-empted his lover's awareness.

From where he sat beyond the wall of glass, Hizashi couldn't see Shouta's right eye open, but his chest wrenched when he saw his lost lover slowly sit up. His movements were stiff, wooden, and he didn't look around the empty room at all.

'Room'... It was a cell.

All for One was kept in Tartarus too. Could Shouta sense him? The cybertronic eye and the tracking device had been destroyed. There was nothing else physically leashing him to the Villain besides a body covered in scars, but who could tell what was floating around Shouta's fractured mind?

Eraserhead sat there, unmoving, for three more days.

-x-

The captured man did not speak, did not eat, did not sleep, did not even move from where he sat on the bed.

"The tests are back," Nezu said from where he sat beside Hizashi. A pillow and blanket were sprawled over the couch. The blond had practically been living there, on the other side of Shouta's two-way wall. His class had had a test on something he hadn't even taught them. He knew their marks would've suffered. If he'd been the one marking, he might've been generous, but instead the other teachers had volunteered to do it.

He regretted not having the distraction, but decided it was for the best: Hizashi wasn't in a condition to teach, let alone mark.

"It's as we feared," Nezu continued, not waiting for a verbal response from the Voice Hero. "Many of the mutations we found in his physicality are reminiscent of the Nomu we captured, albeit on a far more sophisticated level. His mutation is less than the others captured, with compatible changes made to his existing Quirk, unlike the others where incompatible Quirks were combined."

"He's waiting for orders," Hizashi said, voice low. Despite his company, his eyes never left the man beyond the glass.

"He is registering brain activity," Nezu said, "unlike the Nomu we captured from the USJ. Even if we classify them both as Nomu, the difference between them is vast."

"...All for One didn't want him brainless… He wanted Shouta lucid enough to know he was suffering." Hizashi shivered. All for One was in this same building, but he had zero desire to see him.

"... Did the pictures work? During the fight?"

Hizashi exhaled gently. "I was more effected than he was, but… There were a few times he hesitated. Once he was trying to attack me, but then he saw the warehouse collapse, and his target changed to Vlad. Not to mention… I had a chance to kill him… Shouta put the blade to his neck, as if he wanted to be put out of his misery…"

"Was it to end his misery," Nezu asked slowly, "or was he hoping you'd end him, so you could live on…?" Hizashi was silent. "There's hope after all, Present Mic, if you're willing to try."

-x-

The next day, the doctor gave permission for the first step.

"Shouta," Hizashi said into the microphone. He'd been worried that he'd slip into his DJ persona once he was behind a mic, but when he remembered who his audience was there was no need for concern. "It's me: Hizashi Yamada." He watched Shouta through the glass, but his voice over the intercom didn't make him stir at all. "Do you remember me?"

Nothing. Even the heart monitor remained unchanged.

"[Tough crowd]," he said with a forced laugh. "Remember?" Hizashi coughed a little, and when he spoke again it was in the rough voice of Shouta Aizawa: "'You, Yamada - hearing you talk makes me sick.'"

His eyes strained, searching for any sign of movement. Shouta was unresponsive.

"You're right," Hizashi continued in his own voice. "Things were shaky back then, and I don't blame you for saying that. You had a real bad habit of pushing me away, but I can't even be mad: I did the same thing. Well, you've gotta remember our first date, right? We went to a festival! You burned my mouth with takoyaki! [Yeouch!]" Hizashi's laugh was more genuine. "I called you a dickbag for it, but you gave me a compliment! Guess we were two crazies who deserved each other…"

They'd only been twenty-two then… Hizashi could hardly believe that, looking back.

"And I won you a keyring with a star on…"

Movement. Shouta lifted his hand, as if he were reaching for something, but his fingers encircled air. A lump formed in Hizashi's throat and he heard a doctor curse behind him at the unexpected response. Shouta…

"You remember that? It was a symbol of our love! Cheap, tacky and hard to look at! We were at the top of the Ferris Wheel, and you told me you loved me. You told me…" He swallowed as emotion lodged in his chest. "Shouta… You're the centre of my universe… You've been the centre of my universe since the day we met beneath the cherry blossom trees… I've thought about it a lot, Sho, about what I would change… If I could change anything, it would be my Quirk." Shouta's hand moved back with the shift in conversation, but Hizashi had to say this. "If I could change anything, it would be so your Erasure didn't literally take my breath away… Can you imagine it, Sho? A world where we'd fought a normal fight at the Sports Festival! Doesn't even matter who would've won because we both would've become heroes… SYN never would've approached me, and we would've graduated together… That's what I'd change …" He wiped at his face. "You're the centre of my universe, Sho, and on that night on the Ferris Wheel, I asked you to marry me… And for some reason you actually said yes."

Despite the earlier shift, there was no further movement.

Hizashi continued. "You wanted my last name. You wanted to be Shouta Yamada, even though it's such a common family name, and Nezu became the principal of UA so we could become heroes together… Because of you, I became a hero… and a teacher." He inhaled shakily. "I'm sorry about All-Might… I needed to flush you out, and I figured that would be the only way… I've never-... I've… I've only ever loved you Sho, and I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that… I love you, and I'm going to help you in any way I can…"

Nothing…

-x-

It continued like that. Each day the doctors and guards gave him a short time slot to talk to (to talk at) Shouta through his cell's intercom.

He tried to talk about anything that would spark his memories, but nothing gained the same reaction as mentioning the keychain on that first day. Even when he mentioned it again, Shouta remained unresponsive.

"Sho," he said softly. Exhaustion was heavy in his voice, but by now he doubted his ex-lover noticed. "Can you hear me? Do you recognise my voice? You used to call me 'Zashi'... Among other things. Baby, do you still wanna marry me? I know it was crazy to propose with a keychain… Said I'd get you an actual ring… Well, I got you one, Baby."

His fingers toyed with the golden loop. He'd had Nemuri buy it, of course: Hizashi hadn't left Tartarus since day one. This place was as much his cell as it was Eraserhead's and All for One's.

"I couldn't replace the keychain, yo, but I made Nemuri - you remember Nemuri, right? I made her engrave a star on your ring…"

His finger ran over the shallow grooves.

"Course I can't give it to you yet… For all you know, I'm lying…" Hizashi sighed and squeezed his fingers around the ring. "...I'm… not doing great, Sho… But I can't really complain."

He looked over the ring, his fingers turning it back and forth.

"What happened…? Something happened between Hosu and that night. You did something wrong and you got punished, right? Punished by your 'father'?"

Movement: Shouta ducked his head. It was only slight, but it was the first reaction since the keychain.

"He isn't your father," Hizashi pressed. "Your real father left you and your mother when you were young, and she kicked you out after you graduated… Maybe All for One found out, and maybe he used that against you…"

The heart monitor grew steadily faster.

"You're safe, Sho. I'm not gonna let him hurt you ever again. He's never going to punish you, or brainwash you, or force you to hurt anyone else. You get that, right? I don't want to even imagine what he's done to you… Maybe if you'd known everything eight years ago, you wouldn't've agreed to sacrifice yourself for me…" He exhaled heavily, his heart quaking in his chest. "You sacrificed everything, Sho – all three of you did – because you thought my life was worth more than your freedom…" His voice cracked. "All for One isn't your father. Whatever was there in Hosu and the USJ, whatever made you protect me back then, it can't be gone…"

He stopped squeezing the ring and finally tore his eyes from Shouta so he could look at it. A matching one was around his own ring finger. It was simple and small and round. There was no stone, and there was nothing especially fancy or gaudy about it besides the simple engraving and the gold sheen.

His eyes slid to the scar on his left hand, where a knife aimed for his heart had been stopped.

"I still want to marry you, Sho," he said at last, his loud voice feeling impossibly small. "Even if there's only a small inkling of the man I love, I want to be with him. I want to marry him, and hold him, and kiss him, and keep him safe from everything… He's the centre of my universe."

The heart monitor grew steady again.

…Hizashi knew what he had to do.

-x-

He'd finally been given approval after four days of asking. Of course, he understood why it'd taken so long: what he wanted was borderline crazy.

He was going in the cell with Shouta, completely unarmed.

Every few days they were forced to knock Eraser unconscious so they could force food into him through a feeding tube, but Hizashi would be going in while he was awake.

"There're dangers," the doctor reminded him.

"I know," he said as he fixed up his clean shirt. Hizashi had showered and made himself look as presentable as possible.

"If you're harmed, or if you give the signal, we'll send in the guards. However, if things go wrong, we might have to use lethal force on him."

"I know…"

The risk was high. One wrong move and Shouta could snap his body like a twig, but… he had to do something drastic.

"The closer to the door you are, the safer you'll be," the doctor needlessly reminded. "Although he hasn't moved, he's considered highly dangerous."

"I know," he repeated yet again.

This was necessary.

The doctor, knowing he couldn't be dissuaded, finally nodded. "Step in the airlock. We'll close the door on our side and let you in." Hizashi did as asked as he waited in the chamber between worlds. Several guards joined him in the in-between, but when the door ahead opened, Hizashi stepped in alone.

The doors shut behind him, and he took in the sight of the cell with no wall between.

Mirrors lined one side of the white room, reflecting the two temporary inhabitants in their stoic sheen. Of course they were two-way: he'd been on the other side of them for weeks.

You couldn't hear the heart monitor in here. There wasn't much sound at all, besides the soft echo of the air conditioning and the carefully protected vents.

It was cold, although Hizashi was fully clothed: maybe it was freezing for Shouta in his thin hospital gown. The man sat on the bed, the only motion being the gentle rise and fall of his chest, although even that was difficult to notice.

"Shouta," Hizashi said softly, his heart breaking at the clear sight of him. His skin had a grey tinge to it, and while his muscles were large, there was a thinness to his entire body that was noticeable without the black jumpsuit. What skin he could see was marred by thick scars.

Nomu, Hizashi's mind registered, and his heart almost broke again at the small word.

"Remember me now?" asked the blond. There was a slight movement to Shouta's head, but Hizashi couldn't make out his face beneath his long, dishevelled hair. "Maybe as Hizashi, or maybe as your prey. Honestly don't mind at this stage, as long as you remember me, Baby."

Nothing. Hizashi swallowed and continued.

"I couldn't find you another keychain," he said gently. "But I got you a ring. Remember? I mentioned it the other day. They've given me the go ahead to give it to you."

Hizashi held it out on the centre of his palm, but going onto one knee would've been a stupid idea, so he remained standing.

To his surprise, Shouta's head turned towards him.

"It's okay," Hizashi said with a small smile. "I won't hurt you, [Dearest Listener]. This belongs to you."

Shouta stood up.

Hizashi could just imagine the people scrambling behind the mirrors, watching Shouta like hawks, trying to read into his unreadable body language. It was impossible to tell what the Nomu was responding to: the ring, or the return of its prey.

Hizashi slowly exhaled any fear. He was a hero. He would be strong enough for this.

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed in the small room as Eraserhead approached. He lumbered, as if his body was too large for him, but Hizashi stood firm, although his hand was shaking as he held out the ring.

Shouta could snap him in a second. Shouta could snap him in a second.

Eraserhead could snap him in a second.

The villain could easily reach forward and break his neck before the guards could do anything, and they'd then be forced to use 'lethal measures'. Was this worth them both dying?

Of course. He's promised to save Shouta.

Shouta was free of All for One, but he was far from saved.

It was difficult to notice that their heights were still relatively similar, for Shouta seemed to dwarf him with his simple presence.

Shouta closed in on him, his black hair falling across his face, as sinister as a mask. It wasn't floating anymore, and Hizashi spied a line of white where a surgical eyepatch looped around, no doubt covering his replaced left eye.

That's when he realised it: Shouta wasn't focused at all on the small golden ring in his palm. His focus was entirely on Hizashi.

No, was he going to attack him after all? Even after everything, was Present Mic going to end here?

Hizashi stepped back in fear, but managed to stay resolute, and-

Heavy hands grabbed his shoulders. Just when he thought it was the end, however, something unexpected happened…

Shouta's head slumped against his chest.

The looming figure crumbled. He seemed small, and… He was… trembling.

For the first time since he'd been captured, Shouta said something. It was a small whisper, barely audible. Maybe he'd been saying it this entire time, since first waking in the room, and no one had noticed, but now Hizashi heard it, and it made his heart clench in his chest:

"...Zashi."

Hizashi had to see his face. He hadn't seen his face since that world-shattering day. One look would tell him whether he could truly save his beloved, or if everything was already lost.

He brushed the heavy hair away from Shouta's face and gently tilted his chin so he was face to face with his dearest one, and…

His left eye was covered by a white, sterile surgical patch. Beneath it was a horrific scar that took up most of the left side of his face. One look told him it wasn't recent. His dark facial hair wasn't exactly a beard, but it had grown more ragged, and his face was thin.

Dark circles ringed his remaining eye, as if he hadn't slept in years. The sight of red worried him for a moment, but it was only the bloodshot veins that ignited the colour.

His gaze was distant, as if he wasn't truly there, but...

It was Shouta Aizawa.

Hot tears welled in Hizashi's eyes and his hands desperately wrapped around his returned lover as he held him as close as he could. "Sho," he cried out, voice cracking. He buried his face against the dirty black hair and the tears continued to stream. "Sho… Sho… My love…"

-o-

Colour, colour, colour. No more red, red, red, but green, green, green. The pain in his head was gone - they'd taken the bad red away and now his Colour was back.

"Shouta," Hizashi whispered to him, the nicest sound he'd ever heard.

Shouta. The same name he'd said at the USJ… It was… It was him.

Shouta clung to Hizashi Yamada, his lifeline, and relished the feeling of hands touching him, the kindest, warmest touch he'd ever known.

"Shouta," Hizashi repeated softly, his voice a sob. "I'm going to help you, in any way I can. We're together again, and I don't care if it takes another fifteen years…" Shouta's hand was gently pried from his Colour's arm, and something small and round was placed in the centre of his palm. "I'm all yours, Sho. We're going to get you back… All of you, no matter how long it takes."

Eraserhead relaxed at the comforting weight in his hand. A small circle of shimmering gold, with a star carved into the loop: his Charm. He wrapped his fingers around it protectively and pressed his face even firmer to Hizashi's chest.

"Zashi," he said softly. There was nothing else he could say, but that didn't matter. His Colour kissed his forehead and touched him gently and held him close.

His fight was over.

He was Home.

"Once blind, now I see.

Once a slave: I'm free.

Give me a star, to homeward guide my heart,

To resurrect a part of me;

The man who I used to be.'

\- The Man I Used to Be (The Count of Monte Cristo (Musical))


	48. Epilogue

Chapter Forty-Eight

Epilogue

"_Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee_

_Doth much excuse the appertaining rage_

_To such a greeting. Villain am I none._

_Therefore, farewell. I see thou know'st me not."_

\- _Romeo and Juliet (Romeo - Act 3, Scene 1)_

Hizashi Yamada whistled to himself as the snow fell in gentle white flurries around him. He was smothered in thick clothes to keep out the cold, and his face was covered by a mask… No, not a villainous mask: just a simple surgical mask. It was flu season, and a cold could be detrimental considering his Quirk.

He wouldn't be much of a hero (or a teacher) if he couldn't stop sneezing!

However, the surgical mask and round glasses couldn't hide a thin scar beneath his right eye.

It'd been a long day. Travelling all the way to and from UA took a lot out of him. Thankfully his teaching load had been lessened for some time so he could focus more on his family and hero work, and he hadn't minded too much: his small family needed him.

Hizashi Yamada buried his hands deeper in his pockets for warmth, but the person he was waiting for wouldn't be much longer. Soon enough, he heard the crunch of small boots running in the snow. It was his only warning before a short figure tackled into his side and almost knocked him over. "Daddy!"

The young girl laughed and Hizashi joined in the mirth as he protectively righted her pair of fuzzy earmuffs. "[_Hey little listener!]" _he said eagerly. "How was school?"

His daughter didn't look anything like him, of course, unless you counted her toothy smile. She had long white hair and a horn on her hairline, the only sign of her powerful Quirk. That didn't matter though: even if she wasn't his biological daughter, he loved her deeply. Her name was Eri, and she was nine years old.

Her large red eyes danced with joy, and a quick assessment of her thick clothing reminded him she was certainly warm enough. "Good! We were learning about the primary colours! Red, blue and yellow! You can make other colours with them, but you can't make other colours into them, so that's why they're called primary!"

"What about white and black?" he asked, grinning beneath his mask as they turned and started home.

"I said that too, but they don't count!" she said matter-of-factly. "They're shades!"

"I thought _these _were shades!" As he said it, he poked his glasses, and his daughter giggled. They continued for a bit, but the cold air grew a little colder.

The houses here were blocked from the street by tall walls, but in the spring there were plenty of cherry blossom trees to fill the world with colour. It was away from the bustle of the city, and that was the reason they'd moved there. The elementary school Eri attended wasn't especially big, but only the teachers knew who her father was, and that was for the best.

Out of the blue, Eri said, "You should wait inside next time. It's cold. All the other parents wait inside…"

Although he'd been a pro-hero for over a decade now, there were too many who would never forgive him for the start of his career, and his cancelled engagement to All-Might had worsened his image. It was safer for Eri if no one knew who he was. He knew firsthand how quickly rumours spread, and how bloodthirsty the media could be.

"_[Hey, little listener]_, we already talked about it. They'd probably ban me forever for being too funny!"

The tension immediately eased, and she fought to stay serious. "You're not _that _funny!"

Hizashi feigned a broken heart. "[Ye-ouch!] Words hurt, Sweetie!" They laughed together, and he quickly changed the topic. "You remember about tonight?"

She nodded, a mix of eager and apprehensive. "Game night."

"You've got a good memory. It's a big step for us…" His voice grew grimmer. "Papa was okay with Nemuri and Tensei last time, but…" Hizashi swallowed. "Well, I'm hoping he won't try to stab Kan again. We definitely pushed too early before... He seemed to be having a good day this morning though, so that's promising."

"What about Mr. All-Might?"

"Eh, I'm not worried about him," Hizashi said with a shrug. "Whenever All-Might's on screen, Papa doesn't even register him. Really I think the challenge will be getting him _not _to ignore Toshi!" He sighed heavily. "Seriously, I was engaged to the most famous hero in the world, and my sweet, sweet hubby is more jealous of a guy I never even dated..."

Memory was a funny thing, especially when it came to his husband…

Hizashi twisted his wedding ring a few times beneath his warm glove. The scar on his palm ached a little with the cold, despite the insulated glove, but he smiled lovingly at the prospect of returning home to his beloved husband.

-x-

"Sho!" Hizashi called eagerly as he swung the door open, already flinging off his mask and oversized jacket. "We're home!" They paused, but there was no response. However, that wasn't unusual. Eri headed for her room so she could drop off her schoolbag, while the hero went to find his husband.

He found the love of his life curled up on the couch with their two cats, sleeping as he often did. Hizashi took a moment to take in the sight, his smile warm and tender. Heater was old but still going strong, although she was far thinner than she'd once been. Her reunion with Shouta had been sweet. Although she hadn't remembered him, the ex-villain had remembered her, which was always a reason to celebrate.

He hadn't been at all violent towards the feline, a good sign, and they'd adopted a kitten as well to create new memories - Boots. It'd been an experience for Shouta, especially when the kitten played too rough and nipped him, but the man had controlled his honed reflective instincts. Luckily Shouta would never hurt a cat.

Hizashi gently knelt beside the couch, near Shouta's face, but he didn't touch him. "Hey Sleeping Beauty~" He kept his volume low, but it was enough to wake the man without startling him.

A tired eye opened. There was a fuzziness for a few moments, and Hizashi was worried that maybe it _wasn't _a good day after all, but then clarity sharpened across his face. "Zashi," he mumbled into the couch cushion, "welcome home."

It'd been three years since they'd rescued Shouta from All for One's hands, and progress was expectedly slow. After a year in Tartarus, they'd agreed to let him live with Hizashi outside the prison, but he was under tight house arrest, unless they were granted special permission.

Shouta's good days were more frequent: days where he was almost like his old self. He'd be sharp, and more talkative, and would be aware of both the past and the present.

However, he still had plenty of bad days. He'd wake from a nightmare of his past, and Hizashi would take a day off to help keep him grounded in the present. On those days he was temporarily back to day one. Guests were impossible on those days: he was aggressive towards everyone except Hizashi and Eri, although he'd never hurt anyone (although he'd tried to stab Kan with a broken vase when they'd last attempted game night).

People had criticised Hizashi for bringing Eri into the same house as an 'unstable monster' (and maybe he shouldn't've risked it), but she'd needed a home.

Thankfully, even on his worst days, Shouta never hurt her. She became another rock in his life - another needed source of stability - and Eri loved him as a second father. Maybe Hizashi had needed the extra stability as well.

"How're you feeling?" Hizashi asked as he tenderly combed his fingers through his husband's long black hair.

"Tired," he said precisely, and the blond placed their foreheads together.

"You'll be okay for tonight? We can reschedule if you're not up for it."

Shouta pressed back against his touch. He wasn't wearing an eyepatch at the moment, but he kept the eye closed. Hizashi had wanted to build him a new bionic eye - one that wouldn't be able to use his Erasure Quirk but could be seen through - but Shouta hadn't handled the mere suggestion well, and Hizashi'd never suggested it since.

Hizashi tried not to focus on the horrific scar on Shouta's handsome face. "Be fine," Shouta said with an exhale. "Just… won't stab. Easy."

He chuckled softly and placed a kiss on Shouta's nose. "Don't stab anyone, and try not to ignore Yagi. I'm not saying you have to talk to people, but I've seen you literally try to walk through him before."

The ex-villain shrugged. "Needs more presence."

"All-Might, the ex-Symbol of Peace, '_needs more presence'?" _Hizashi couldn't keep himself from grinning. Shouta grunted and sat up, although he was careful not to disturb the cats.

They couldn't physically fix Shouta: he was a Nomu. Eri had offered to use her Quirk, Rewind, to change him, but Hizashi refused to risk it. They'd fought so hard to have this much and if he lost Shouta for good…

Without the strenuous exercise, Shouta's muscles had lessened, although his strength and reflexes remained inhuman. He ate anything Hizashi made for him, meaning he'd lost his malnourished physique, and even his skin wasn't as grey as it'd been.

But he knew what lay beneath Shouta's casual clothes.

Beneath the material, his body was lined with horrific scars that spoke of innumerable cruelties. The mere thought of them made Hizashi's stomach churn with guilt.

Despite that, Shouta was physically healthy and comfortable.

It was his mental health that was of the most concern these days.

"Colour?" Hizashi asked as he fixed up the collar of Shouta's shirt.

"Green."

The blond smiled and leaned up to place a soft kiss on Shouta's lips, although they only held it for a few seconds. "Good," Hizashi said softly. "Update me if that changes, _[Dearest Listener]_."

-o-

Shouta Yamada's world was soft. He had a warm house, a loving husband, a caring daughter, and two friendly cats: he'd never imagined such light could ever exist at the end of the deep dark tunnel that'd been his life before. His memory of both times - his villain and pre-villain days - was shaky, but he held on tightly to the memories of the present.

True, there were limitations to his life. He couldn't leave the house alone, but luckily he wasn't the sort to get stir crazy, and he was usually lucid enough to understand the reason why they kept him locked up. Shouta didn't want to hurt anyone, and if he had to stay home to ensure that, then he would.

Gentle hands combed through his hair, and he closed his eye so he could focus on the soothing touch. He was lucky to have Hizashi. He didn't always understand how someone like Hizashi Yamada could love him so much, when he could have his pick of anyone, but Shouta never doubted it. Hizashi loved him, and Shouta hoped his husband understood how much he loved him too, even if he struggled to show it.

He leaned into the tender touches until their daughter entered the room. "I drew for you! We're practicing primary colours!" Eri declared happily, but didn't approach him too quickly as she held out a drawing. Shouta took it and carefully examined the sketchy picture of their small family. Hizashi was drawn in yellow crayon, Eri was blue, and it appeared she had started drawing him in red, but had quickly swapped to black.

"It's good," he said concisely before he stood and moved to the kitchen. They followed and watched as he used a magnet to place the drawing on the front of the fridge. "Perfect."

Eri beamed at the honour.

Shouta didn't know if this was what he'd always wanted, but this life made him feel safe and happy: how could he have _not _wanted this?

Hizashi kissed him on the cheek. "I'm gonna have a shower, baby. Can you two set the table? Remember, there'll be seven of us, and before you say it, _yes _Toshinori counts!"

Shouta and Eri nodded and were left alone to set up the dining room. "Thank you," he said to her gently, "for the picture."

"I'll draw Heater and Boots next time too!" He nodded in approval, and the duo started taking out the plates. "Ready?" He nodded and widened his stance. Eri picked up the stack of seven china plates and _threw_ them at Shouta, one at a time.

His reflexes were sharp as he swiped each from the air with one hand and stacked a pile of them in his other. Eri giggled joyously at the trick, and hurried over to him afterwards. Hizashi would've had a heart attack at the sight of his fancy china plates being tossed around, but Shouta had to stay sharp: if something ever happened to his perfect family, he'd protect them.

_Remember, _he told himself, _Sekijiro is not an enemy. _Tonight he would make Hizashi proud; he would prove to him he was _good_.

He and Eri set the table dutifully, with enough places for _seven _people. It was a large number for him… Maybe he wasn't ready. He'd thought he'd been ready last year, but he'd snapped. He would've stabbed Kan had Hizashi not stepped in the way. He was so thankful he hadn't accidentally hurt his husband, but Hizashi had been confident that Shouta wouldn't've harmed him.

He didn't know why, but the sight of Sekijiro always made him lose himself. Hizashi claimed it was either from their Sports Festival or from a warehouse fight, and both were probably true, but knowing the cause didn't change anything for him. He was okay with Nemuri and Tensei, and Toshinori was… well, Toshinori wasn't an issue, but Sekijiro...

"Colour?" asked his daughter, as if she sensed his anxiety.

"Yellow-Green," he answered honestly. He wasn't completely at either colour.

Eri nodded and hurried out the room, but returned a few moments later with Heater cuddled in her arms. "Here," she said wisely as she offered him the old purring cat, "Heater'll make it better."

He took the black cat and held her close, and for just a moment he thought he felt rain in the warm dining room. Shouta tried to grab the memory, to find comfort in it, and it was somewhat successful as he recalled the day he and Hizashi had saved the kitten from the rain. How long ago had that been? Seventeen years? Eighteen? Who really counted anymore…

Heater kneaded her paws against his sleeve and happily purred. His nerves were successfully calmed. "Green," he said with a nod. "Easy… Just… Don't stab."

-x-

Shouta hung back as Hizashi answered the door. He heard quiet talk between his husband and the guests, but he didn't focus on what they said. "Papa," Eri called as she hurried over to him, holding a small hair clip. She didn't need to explain what she wanted as he took the clip and gently clipped her fringe away from her face. "Thank you! How do I look?"

Eri wore a bright dress with pink flowers sewn into the hems. Rather than say anything, he opened his arms, and she was eager to move forward and embrace him tightly. Shouta held his daughter close, reminded again of just how lucky he was.

He'd show them he was good.

As he and Eri pulled away from the embrace, Nemuri walked into the room, carrying a bucket of fried chicken. Hizashi had offered to cook a big dinner, but the group had insisted on take-out to save him the time and trouble. "Shouta! You're looking well. How're you doing today?"

He looked at her blankly. If someone had asked for his colour, he would've said yellow-green, but that's what it automatically moved to when he was around guests. All he could do was try to keep his level of comfort at that, and retain control of himself. "Fine," he mumbled.

"Is my dress pretty?" Eri asked the woman, twirling to better show off the colours. "Daddy bought it for me!"

"Woah! It looks amazing, sweetie!" cooed Kayama. "You could be a fashion model when you're older!"

However, Eri shook her head. "Na-uh, cause I'm gonna be a Pro-Hero!" Her red eyes sparkled as she said it, and her grin reminded him of Hizashi's. "And I'm gonna go to UA, just like my daddies!"

His colour was back to green.

"Is that a little hero I hear?" asked a male voice, and into the living room came Iida Tensei in his state-of-the-art wheelchair. "I bet if you set your mind to it, you can be anything you wanna be."

"With your power," said the voice of a man who'd stood beside Tensei's chair the entire time, unnoticed by Shouta, "I bet you could be a great healing Hero, like Recovery Girl." Seriously, Toshinori needed more presence: the box of fried chicken he held was more noticeable than him.

"She's already coming up with some _[totally super cool] _hero names, yo!" Hizashi called out proudly, although he hadn't left the entrance room. "Tell 'em, Sweetie!"

"The Unicorn!" Eri declared, posing as if she were holding an invisible sword. "Or 'The Time Princess'!" She continued to exuberantly declare potential names, but Shouta found it difficult to focus, especially when he knew what was to come.

Hizashi exited the entranceway and beelined for his side. "Colour?"

Shouta took a moment to decide. "Green." With the focus on Eri, he was holding up okay. Hizashi nodded and gently took his hand in his. There was a slight spark from the touch, and even if he hadn't felt completely 'green' before, he definitely did now.

"It's okay, Kan. You can come in."

The man followed the cue and entered the room, and…

**Red**.

_Red, red, red!_

His _Enemy_! His Enemy was there to steal his Home, Home, Home!

Eraserhead tried to pull a knife from his belt, but there was no knife, and something else was in his hand. "Shouta," said his Light, voice firm. The fingers tightened in his palm. "Kan isn't the enemy, remember? He's a friend."

The Blood Hero didn't move, just stood there across the room from Eraserhead…

No, across the room from Shouta…

From Shouta Yamada…

"Colour?" asked his Love, Love, and his shoulders trembled.

His own words ran through his mind: Easy. Don't stab. Easy. Don't stab.

"Red-Yellow," he said, but he could feel it slipping away from red.

Shouta was carefully rotated so he was facing his Love, Love. "Sho, tell me about our wedding."

"...Cherry blossoms," he managed to say. "Spring."

"_[Right, Listener,]_" Hizashi gently praised. "What was I wearing, yo? Did I look super cool?"

Shouta focused his thoughts to that day, and his aggression disappeared as he remembered his husband's outfit. "White suit," he said, voice quieter, "green waistcoat… Matched eyes…Beautiful."

Yellow.

"Good - you remember it so well. You looked so handsome too. Who was there, baby?"

"...You… Eri… Mouse…"

"His _name_, baby," Hizashi said more firmly. "Come on, I know you remember it."

"...Nezu."

Yellow-Green.

"See? I knew you remembered." Hizashi's smile was beautiful and warm. Shouta wanted to hide his face away against his chest, but he wanted his husband to be proud of him. "Just us four?"

Shouta thought about it. He hadn't really been focused on anyone other than Hizashi that day. "Yes."

He knew it was an incorrect answer by the twitch of Hizashi's eyebrows, but he wasn't punished for it. "Poor Toshinori, always slips your mind," the blond said, but he didn't stop smiling. "It's okay, Sho. You're doing amazing."

Green.

"I'm okay," Shouta said softly, although he felt tired. When he finally looked back at Kan Sekijiro, the colour slipped instantly to yellow-green, but that was preferable to red.

"It's good to see you," Kan said in his gruff voice. "S'pose I can't call you Aizawa 'nymore though."

Shouta managed a heavy nod. "Yamada now."

Hizashi seemed to sparkle. "We filmed the wedding. We should watch it together! It was so beautiful, yo, with cherry blossoms and Eri was the flower girl, and Shouta looked so handsome! He even shaved!"

Nemuri rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. "Zaza, you've shown us the video like four times already. Just wish you'd talk about the honeymoon… Come on, let's eat some chicken and play some games!"

There was an agreement all around, and Hizashi pouted. Shouta swallowed and gently squeezed his husband's hand, focusing on him. "Watch ... later."

The blond looked at him, surprised, and then smiled the goofiest smile he possibly could. "I'm the luckiest man alive~"

They all went to the dining room and ate, although Shouta didn't talk much. Thankfully Hizashi talked enough for both of them combined. There were several instances where he looked at Kan Sekijiro and his colour shifted to yellow, but his breathing techniques helped calm him.

Eventually, however, he was worn out from the company. "Tired," he murmured to Hizashi, gently tugging at his shirt beneath the table.

"Okay, love," the blond said softly as he stood up, prepared to walk him to the bedroom.

Shouta stood as well, and glanced at the guests, although his real focus was on his daughter. "G'night," he murmured softly.

Eri hurried up and hugged him around the waist, beaming brightly. "Nighty night, Papa! Sweet dreams!"

He returned the embrace and soundlessly fixed up her hairclip, before he left the dining room with Hizashi at his side. "You did great, Sho." They reached the bedroom and the blond closed the door to give them a little privacy.

"Proud?" Shouta asked as he sleepily pulled off his shirt. He noticed the way Hizashi avoided looking at his scarred-up chest, but it only bothered him a little as he found his night-shirt. "I'm good...?"

The blond blinked at him in what was undoubtedly surprise, and he moved forward so he could tenderly stroke Shouta's face. "Sho, you're definitely good. You try so hard, and I'd be a complete idiot if I wasn't proud of you, yo." He pressed their foreheads together. It was as if a spark of sweet electricity coursed between them, spreading love through his entire being. It felt of safety and warmth and home. "I never thought we'd have this… I never thought I'd have _you_. And I know it isn't what we thought we wanted, but I'm so lucky, and I'm so proud and I'm so in love with you, Shouta. All our lives, it's felt like we've been on two doomed ships in a storm, just crossing paths, but… We're on the same boat now, and the sun is shining, and the horizon is endless…"

"Love," he said softly. He loved Hizashi so much and he hoped he knew.

Hizashi must've, because he nodded and kissed Shouta on the forehead. "I told you long ago that a hero chooses a path, but a villain accepts it… But even a villain can choose to be a hero with enough help, and… Well, you're _my_ hero Sho. You're my hero, and I love you so much, and everyday I'm going to be here for you - through the bad days and the good. I'm proud of us, Sho… We deserve this happiness."

Shouta Yamada nodded sleepily against his husband's forehead. "Happiness…" Yes, he was happy. He lived in the moment, and what a beautiful moment it was. "Love?"

Hizashi laughed gently. "From the moment I first met you, to this moment now, and all the future moments ahead of us… And we're a family. I know this might not be what you wanted – what _we _wanted, but… To be villains? We should've never wanted _that._" He wrapped his arms around Shouta and held him so close that he could feel their hearts beating together. Hizashi's thumped away, a mile a minute, while his own was slow and steady. "I'm so glad we didn't get what I thought we wanted, because this is good, and you _are_ good, and I know it's far from perfect, but…"

"Perfect," he said firmly as he gently kissed Hizashi's cheek, and the blond trembled against him.

"You're right…" Hizashi said softly. "As long as we're together like this, then everything _is _perfect."

Shouta Yamada closed his one eye and pressed his hands into Hizashi's long blond hair.

That spark of gentle electricity continued between them. Once it had been a passionate burn that had threatened to devour all, but now it was a tender flame that would last a lifetime.

"Game night tomorrow?" Shouta asked slowly, carefully sounding out each syllable. "You…Me…Eri…Cats."

Hizashi's laugh was forever the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, and he lifted his hand to link their pinkies together. "It's a promise, Sho."

"_**These violent delights have violent ends,**_

_**And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,**_

_**Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey**_

_**Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,**_

_**And in the taste confounds the appetite.**_

_**Therefore love moderately, long love doth so;**_

_**Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow."**_

\- _Romeo and Juliet (Friar Lawrence - Act 2, Scene 6)_

The End


	49. Bonus Chapter

**Bonus Chapter**

It was a miracle, and Hizashi was thankful every day for Shouta's physical return (and his gradual mental return). Every day he was more like the man he'd known so long ago, and Hizashi devoted himself to his loving husband's health and happiness.

They'd married after two years and the wedding had been beautiful - Hizashi continuously re-lived it in his mind. He imagined if he'd still been hallucinating a secondary Shouta, the figment would've pointed out some flaw, like the lack of attendees or the simplicity, but he'd _enjoyed_ the small ceremony.

For the honeymoon, they'd simply cuddled on the couch and watched movies with Eri until dawn. Nothing more had happened, even after their daughter had been put to bed.

They never even talked about sex, let alone had it, although they shared a bed and cuddled every night (unless Present Mic was on a late patrol).

He … wasn't sure if Shouta _could _have sex.

Shouta was a Nomu, after all - who knew how that'd affected his body? Not to mention his strength. True he was losing muscle mass gradually, but he was still stronger than a normal man. Hizashi's body wasn't exactly fragile, but he had limits.

Even if he physically could, did he _want _to have sex with Hizashi? Did Shouta still find him attractive?

The blond thought about it more than he liked to admit, but he refused to rush anything. He took it slowly with his husband, even though he hadn't had sex since Shouta had originally been taken a decade ago. It'd been a _long_ decade… but he was content with this.

However, that didn't stop the dreams.

He tried to find a private moment every once in a while, to 'relieve' himself, but sometimes he couldn't find one. If that happened, then he'd have a dream.

It was always Shouta he dreamed of: touching him, kissing him, making love to him like he had before. Sometimes Hizashi awoke needing to change his underwear, while other times…

Well, that night was one of those 'other' times.

Hizashi woke midway through the dream. His breathing was laboured, but he instantly tried to hold his breath. He slept with his hearing-aids out, so he couldn't gauge how loud he was being.

Had he woken Shouta? After all, his husband was curled up against his back, with an arm wrapped around Hizashi's chest. The spooning didn't help, especially since the hero's butt was pressed against Shouta's crotch.

The dark-haired man radiated heat, especially since he always wore a black singlet to bed, and beads of sweat were already forming on Hizashi's skin. The dream was still at the forefront of his mind, as was the aching tent between his legs.

In the past, when this had happened, he could usually escape to the bathroom, but that was simply impossible now due to the grip of Shouta's arm around him.

Thankfully Shouta didn't seem awake just yet.

So, there were three options:

1- Wake his husband so he could go to the bathroom (but how would Shouta react to noticing he had a hard on?)

2- Wait for it to go down and try to sleep more (he didn't want to compare that to torture, considering all his husband had been through, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant option).

Or…

Hizashi swallowed and carefully grabbed his hearing-aid case from the bedside table so he could put one of them in. He needed to keep quiet, and that was easier when you could hear. Once sound returned to his world, he slowly moved his hand to his underwear tent, trying to avoid jostling Shouta awake. He succeeded. Hizashi's fingers rubbed against his own erection through the material of his underwear and he couldn't keep himself from shivering.

With Shouta's body pressed against his back, it felt even better than jacking off in the cold bathroom. He closed his eyes and imagined it was his husband who was slowly stroking him through the material, while he bit his lip to stay silent. Maybe he should've replaced his mute button tattoo…

His hand slipped inside his boxers and squeezed his hot length. His legs twitched at the pleasurable sensation, and he did his best to keep his breathing level. He hadn't lubricated his hand at all, so progress was slow, until a voice gently mumbled in his ear.

"Okay?"

Hizashi yelped at the sudden question and froze all movements, his face hot with shame. Shouta shifted behind him, awake, and the arm that'd been wrapped around his waist moved to caress his side. The blond felt his dick twitch at being discovered - wow he had some stubborn kinks!

"I'm okay!" Hizashi quickly said, pulling his hands from his underwear, only to have Shouta catch his wrist. The blond blinked questioningly at his husband.

The man's expression was soft, his one eye weighted with tiredness and something else Hizashi couldn't quite decipher. "No," Shouta murmured. His hand moved Hizashi's back down to the tent in his underwear, but he stopped before contact was made. "_This … _okay?"

Hizashi trembled. It took all his restraint not to scream out a yes as he nodded his head. Hizashi's underwear was lowered so his hard length sprung loose, and Hizashi's hand moved down with Shouta's hand still wrapped around it. He gasped in pleasure at the first touch, his hips automatically bucking, but then there was a questioning grunt behind him.

"Lube?" His voice had a tinge of confusion to it, which Hizashi recognised - he slipped into that tone whenever he was remembering something.

The blond shivered and pulled their hands away from his crotch so he could roll over in his husband's arms. "Are _you _okay with this?" he asked, his breathing strained with need, but he loved Shouta more than he enjoyed sex. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

While he wasn't usually the sort to initiate affection, Shouta Yamada leaned forward and connected their lips in a firm kiss. Strong arms wrapped around him and held their bodies close together, and Hizashi moaned into his mouth. The scent of his lover filled his senses and their legs temporarily entwined as their lips moved together. Hizashi's heart was racing. Was this really happening, or was it another dream?

They eventually parted with a trail of saliva between them. "Love?" asked the dark-haired man, unsure.

Hizashi shivered and pressed their foreheads together. "Shouta, I'll love you no matter what - with or without sex. I love _you_, and I always will."

Shouta gently exhaled. "Love you," he said tenderly. "...Want you."

His heart soared. "I want you too, baby."

Shouta nodded, his head seeming heavy. Hizashi scrambled with the bedside table drawer, and within the chaos he found a bottle of lubricant he'd stored there maybe a year ago. He offered it to Shouta, but he simply blinked sleepily at it… Baby steps.

Hizashi rolled over to resume his place as little spoon, ensuring his butt was pressed against Shouta's crotch. His breathing was already heavy with want, but his husband wasn't even slightly hard yet. _Could _he still get hard?

Hizashi poured a generous amount of lubricant onto his hand. He shivered at the cold, but Shouta was so hot against him that it wasn't unpleasant for long.

His length was quickly smeared with lube as he gave it a few strokes, but then Shouta's large hand snaked forward and wrapped around his shaft. At the sudden sensation, the blond gasped in pleasure and bucked his hips into the grasp. It'd been so long since he'd been touched and, as always, a warm shock ran through him over the fact it was _Shouta _who was touching him like this.

The man didn't squeeze too tightly with his powerful grip, but it was just on the pleasurable side of too hard. He waited for Shouta to stroke him, but he didn't move, and Hizashi was going crazy with need.

He bucked his hips again and moaned. It was such a hot sensation, to fuck himself forward into Shouta's strong hand and then grind back against his crotch. His body fell into a rhythm of bucking forward and rocking back and he loved every second of it. Moans and cries of pleasure spilled from Hizashi's lips, and he was thankful that Eri's room was on the other side of the house.

"Baby~" Hizashi gasped as he grabbed Shouta's unused hand and pressed it to his nipple. "Here~ Touch me here~"

Shouta complied, rubbing his fingers over his nipple in a sensation that drove him wild with excitement. He fucked himself harder into Shouta's hand, and he finally felt something starting to bulge behind him.

He moaned and worked Shouta's hardening length between his cheeks through his underwear and grinded it against his entrance. "Sho~ You make me feel so good, baby~ F-Fuck~" His hips were speeding up.

Once he could've lasted like this for a while, but it'd been maybe a decade since someone had last touched him like this.

"C-Close~" he whimpered, moving his hips faster into Shouta's slicked grip. "F-Fuck baby~! Shouta~ Shouta~ Shouta~!"

He came in several sharp jerks, one hand squeezing around Shouta's wrist and the other squeezing the hand near his nipple. A few final thrusts milked him, and he lightly pushed Shouta's hand as a signal to release him. Hizashi shuddered as he rolled over, nearly pulling out his hearing aid as he locked lips with his husband.

Hizashi did most of the kissing, and that was perfectly fine as he tongued him desperately. Although his own heartbeat was racing a mile a minute, he noticed Shouta's wasn't as fast, although it was quicker than usual.

His own hand slid down to Shouta's underwear, but it was slightly caught by his vest. "May I?" Hizashi asked roughly as he gripped the hem of the night shirt. He expected an immediate nod, but instead Shouta looked uncertain.

"You...don't like though…"

Hizashi blinked in surprise. "Huh? What don't I like?"

"Body."

The high he'd been riding vanished in moments. "What? Baby, I love your body!"

"...Always look away."

Hizashi was confused, but it didn't take him long to have a cold epiphany… The scars.

He couldn't help but feel partly responsible for them, and he couldn't stand the thought of the tortures and cruelties the villains had committed on Shouta. Just looking at them was enough to make him sick, and yet…

Tears pricked his eyes, but he managed a trembling smile. "Oh baby," he said softly as he tenderly cupped Shouta's face and placed loving kisses over every inch of skin, even on the scar that covered the left side of Shouta's face. "Oh my love, I don't hate your body. I love _all _of you. Here… Let me show you."

He rolled them over so Shouta was on his back, and while at first there was a slight moment of panic on the ex-villain's face, it disappeared as quickly as it'd come: he was safe. Hizashi would never hurt him.

He lightly tugged at the hem of the vest, but waited for a nod from Shouta before he completely removed it.

The scars were truly horrific, and that was coming from someone who'd seen Toshinori's scar frequently.

Some were precise, as if a doctor had made them, while others were the work of vicious beasts. One of the worst covered the front of his belly, and Hizashi didn't want to even guess what had caused it. How could Shouta have survived such a horrific injury?

He noticed a slight tremble in his husband's shoulders, a sign of unspoken discomfort. "You're beautiful, Shouta." Hizashi leaned down and started to trace his scars with kisses.

The scars were a testament to all the hell Shouta had been through, just so he could return to this moment beneath Hizashi's lips.

The blond whispered tender praises beneath his breath and kissed every inch of his chest as he laboriously made his way back to Shouta's face for one long, languid kiss. He pressed his hand over his husband's heart. Beneath the skin he could feel the thud of life, even faster than before.

"Love," Shouta said shakily as they parted, and he leaned up to place a soft kiss on the scar beneath Hizashi's right eye. Next he took Hizashi's hand and kissed the scar on both the palm and the back. "Love."

Hizashi's heart swelled, but the feeling of surplus lubricant on Shouta's hand reminded him of their progress so far that night. "I love you too, Sho, and I _want_ you too."

He trailed kisses back down Shouta's body, until he reached the hem of his underwear. However, he didn't pull them off instantly. Instead, Hizashi looked up at his husband questioningly and he received a short nod in silent reply.

With permission granted, he pulled Shouta's underwear down to reveal his length beneath. He wasn't that hard, despite everything.

Hizashi had been concerned about this moment over the past three years, but now he was in it, there was a sense of calm.

No matter what, he'd love Shouta, and they'd come up with something together.

Hizashi wrapped his hand around the large length and moved forward so he could run his tongue up it. Shouta's thighs quivered and the dick twitched in his hand. "You like my tongue, baby?" Hizashi repeated the process several times with long languid movements, starting from his balls to his slit, and each time he applied more pressure.

Once there was some saliva to slick his dick, Hizashi pumped him a few times to test how he'd respond. Shouta grunted. He _was _getting hard, but it was slower than a normal person. It was promising, at least…

"Feeling good, baby?"

"Good…" Shouta's voice _sounded _good.

Hizashi nodded and leaned up so he could wrap the top of his lips around the tip, trying to coax more of a reaction. He shuddered at the sensation of it sliding deeper and deeper into his mouth, and his hands uselessly pinned Shouta's waist to the mattress. If the man wanted to buck his hips, there was little Hizashi could do to stop him.

Hizashi pulled up, and then moved back down again, his own dick twitching as the tip hit the back of his throat. He moaned, and the sound was echoed by Shouta.

Wow, he'd missed this sensation. Even the taste was good too… So salty.

Hizashi pulled away briefly to smear his hand with thick swathes of lubricant, figuring he'd need as much as possible. He resumed sucking the head of Shouta's length as his fingers prodded his own entrance and slid in and out. After such a long time, the feeling felt foreign, but he didn't delve his digits too deep as he stretched the ring of muscle and closed his eyes to concentrate.

He bobbed his head, moaning each time the heavy length hit the back of his throat. Thankfully he still had no gag reflex, and his lung capacity was as impressive as ever. He could do this for a _long _time, except… He wanted more …

He closed his eyes and took more of the length in, feeling it slide deeper and deeper into his throat. As he did, he finally inserted his third finger into his own heat, listening to the subtle sound of the lubricant squelching.

Fuck, it felt good~

He bobbed his head and bucked his hips and finally his nose buried in Shouta's black curls as the entire length was in. The scent of sex and musk was intoxicating. Hizashi whined with pleasure and rocked his head, but to his surprise, a hand lightly tugged his hair. At the contact, he willingly pulled himself away, tongue lolling with need. Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him close to Shouta's chest as they were rolled over.

-o-

"Shouta~ Kiss me~" Shouta was happy to grant the wish as he linked their lips, tasting his own saltiness on Hizashi's tongue. Their bodies pressed firmly together, and he held his husband close. When he pulled their lips apart, he couldn't help but take in the sight.

Hizashi Yamada looked beautiful as he lay on their bed, face flushed, with saliva glistening his swollen lips.

His memory stirred.

This had once been a fantasy of his, to have Hizashi pressed beneath him. More memories flitted back, some of a raining alleyway and others of a safe room the two had shared.

"I love you," Shouta said, the words feeling warm in his throat. "We're… good."

Hizashi laughed delightedly and took his hand in his. "We're perfect."

He nodded and leaned down, but his mouth ghosted past Hizashi's lips. Instead, Shouta targeted his neck. The blond cried out in pleasure as Shouta set about marking him with hickeys, the way he remembered Hizashi'd liked.

As he did, his length pressed against a welcoming warmth, already prepared for him to enter. He started to press inside, until a hand grabbed his shoulder. "O-One second," Hizashi said, and Shouta immediately stopped. "Just… It's been a while… A _long _while…" Hands cupped Shouta's face and their foreheads were quickly pressed together. "Didn't think I'd ever say this, but… Be gentle…?" Hizashi smiled shyly, although the look wasn't as impactful with his scarlet cheeks and lustful gaze. "You're… a lot stronger than you used to be, and… I'm not as sturdy… but I trust you, Sho, and I love you so much."

Shouta nodded against him and embraced him reassuringly. He'd never do anything to hurt Hizashi - not ever again.

He slowly entered the welcoming warmth, his ears straining to detect any discomforting sounds from his husband. Hizashi _did _whine, but it was in pleasure. "F-Fuck~ So big, b-baby~"

He continued to slide in gradually, pausing every few seconds to rock his hips and check Hizashi was okay, but eventually he was completely inside without any trouble. "Z-Zashi~" he moaned softly, pressing his face into the crook of his husband's neck.

"F-Forgot how perfectly you fit me~ Talk to me, b-baby~" Hizashi gasped, bucking his hips against him. "F-Feel good?"

"Good," he agreed, voice husky. "You're… beautiful. Smell good…" Shouta sucked at Hizashi's neck, tasting his salty sweat as the blond mewled with bliss. "Moving…"

He moved his hips steadily, rocking in and out a few times to gauge Hizashi's reactions, but he held up fine. Perhaps he was sturdier than he gave credit for - he _was _a pro-hero, after all. Still, Shouta didn't succumb to the selfish desire for his own pleasure. He continued to rock back and forth at a steady pace, earning needy gasps from his love. "Shouta~ F-Faster~"

Only at the instruction did he speed up, and even then he ensured he wasn't being too hard.

More memories flashed before his eyes of Hizashi bouncing needily on his dick, and of him fucking the blond roughly against some back alley wall, but this time they were making love.

"Shouta~" Hizashi moaned as legs wrapped around his waist, setting a firmer pace. "Y-You fill me so good~ S-So good inside me~" Shouta pulled away from his neck so he could capture Hizashi's tongue in his mouth. Fingers dug frantically into his muscular back as he sucked on Hizashi's tongue, driving him wild with need.

Despite the position of Shouta on top, the blond was the one setting the pace as he desperately used his legs to rock his body on his length, but the ex-villain certainly wasn't complaining as he focused on the kiss. Hizashi's own shaft was ignored between them, and he noticed the growing heat inside him as his husband's body grew even tighter.

Shouta took hold of Hizashi's ignored length, his palm slick with sweat, and he started to pump him in time with their thrusts. The blond's beautiful voice was loud in his ears as they both neared release, but the discomfort only spurned him on.

His own thrusts grew firmer for the last few hip jerks, but it was enough to push them both over the edge.

Nails dug into his back as Hizashi cried out beneath him. Hot stickiness smeared across their chests, and he felt his own cum filling Hizashi's beautiful body to the brim. Their lips connected at some point in the afterglow of pleasure, although he couldn't remember who'd initiated the kiss.

As their mouths parted, Hizashi breathlessly laughed and nuzzled their cheeks together, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "You're so sexy~ Fuck, I love you so much~"

"...Missed this," he said softly, although he hadn't really remembered until now. Why hadn't they done this sooner? Had he been ready for this earlier? Well, it didn't matter. They could have _this _back.

Hizashi nodded, his fingers lovingly combing through Shouta's sweat-drenched fringe. He leaned up and tenderly kissed the scar that covered the left side of his face. "Healing is slow, but progress is worth it." He wrapped his arms around Shouta and held him close. "We're happy, and that's what I've always wanted for us."

He finally pulled his length from Hizashi's body, earning a short gasp from his husband, and thick warmth followed. "...Pent up," he murmured, feeling embarrassed, but Hizashi simply purred merrily between his soft panting.

"Both were." The blond cuddled against his chest, tangling their limbs together to be as close as possible. His fingers gently traced one of his scars. "We're both outta practise…" He grinned widely. "But don't worry - we'll have plenty of time to change that~"

Shouta couldn't help but grin a little. The new memories of that night were safely stored with the old ones he'd reclaimed. Slowly, he was piecing himself back together, and he didn't doubt Hizashi would be there to help him every step of the way. "Thought you never … ran outta breath," he murmured, almost playfully as he pointed out Hizashi's quiet panting.

The blond chuckled and snuggled in close. "What can I say?" He placed a mischievous kiss on Shouta's pursed lips. His emerald eyes sparkled with beautiful, yet violent, _delight_. "You always take my breath away~"


End file.
